


You Got Cool

by Thonkus



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dave and Karkat are coworkers lmao, Erisol and Rosemary are BG ships but i love them anyways, F/F, Humanstuck, Jade is literally mentioned once in the epilogue im so sorry, Kanaya is so tired of karkats bullshit, Karkat has a lot of bullshit, M/M, Movie Night, POV Karkat Vantas, Rose Lalonde and Dave Strider are Twins, Swearing, davekat - Freeform, it's mostly davekat, not explicit but some nsfw in the later chapters, oh eridan plays the clarinet and i think thats funny, so much swearing, the other trolls are literally just not mentioned im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26055109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thonkus/pseuds/Thonkus
Summary: “Shh, Karkat, patience is a virtue.” Dave pulls one hand from behind his back to shush you, pressing a finger to your lips. His hand feels soft, but you recoil away before you can distract yourself with that thought. You give an over-dramatic show of spitting in disgust. “Gross, you don’t know where that things been!”“Okay, but seriously - I want you to come to my place on Saturday.”You blink, like a fucking idiot, in surprise. Something in your stomach feels really weird about that. Why did your stomach do a flip? That was gross, it’s not supposed to do that.“What was the second thing?” You ask.“Oh, Karkat, you’re going to love this.” You seriously doubt you’re going to love it. Dave plants both hands behind his back to whatever he’s hiding, and with a flourish, he brandishes another shitty dinosaur head snapper. This one in an obnoxious purple color. Dave places said shitty Dino head on the box you’re holding.It’s almost endearing how fucking stupid it is.
Relationships: Dave Strider & Karkat Vantas, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Eridan Ampora & Sollux Captor, Eridan Ampora/Sollux Captor, Rose Lalonde & Kanaya Maryam, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam
Comments: 70
Kudos: 205





	1. Cynthia The Stupid Fucking Dinosaur Snapper

Your name is Karkat Vantas.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and right now you’re perched on the counter, with your ankles crossed, watching your coworker do all the work. It’s unfairly early in the morning, (5:00 AM) and you and your previously mentioned coworker, Dave Strider, have an opening shift. Your stoner manager is tucked away in the back, doing work on the computer, and you and Dave are up front sweeping the floors. Well, he’s sweeping, and you’re fiddling with the tins of mints for sale at the register. The opening shift for such a small store is almost certainly a one person job, but you’re also almost certain that Gamzee only hired you because you two were friends and you needed the money. You’re also pretty sure thats the only reason he has you scheduled right now alongside Dave.

You’ve been working at the shitty donation shop (lovingly titled “Graveyard Thrift” which is only slightly better than the alternative names you come up with when you’re bored.) for almost two months now, and throughout that time, you’ve spent a good portion of it with Strider. You and he got hired around the same time, and being newbies often got the short end of the stick from your superiors together. You’ve cleaned one-too-many bathrooms, and one-too-many suspicious spills with him. You’ve ended up being sort-of-friends, but mostly friendly-coworkers. You two fuck around and talk both on and off of your breaks. Mostly him, though. You just kind of add snarky commentary to whatever bullshit he’s up to. Neither of you complain.

You should probably get off of this counter, but before you can draw your head out of your ass to ask Dave how you can pretend to be helpful, Something large and plastic suddenly clamps itself down on your shoulder.

“Holy Fuck!” You make a noise that sounded a little too much like a yelp for your liking, and flinch yourself off the counter, whirling around to see Strider himself, laughing at you. You guess your shocked response was amusing. Asshole. You can’t see his eyes from behind his sunglasses, (which you mocked him for wearing relentlessly until you learned he get migraines with light. Oops.) but he’s wiping a probably-fake tear from behind them as he double over laughing.

“Holy shit, dude, I didn’t think it’d scare you that much!” He’s still cackling, and his tone lacks any remorse. In his non-tear-wiping hand he has grasped one of those dinosaur head snapper toys. It’s weirdly large, but a dinosaur head snapper toy nonetheless. So thats what was after your shoulder.

He snaps it twice in your direction, grinning in contrast to your deadpan. “Look what I found in the donation boxes.”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, but you can’t really blame him for wandering off to root through boxes since you’ve done practically no work all morning.

“Thats the shittiest thing I’ve ever seen, Strider.”

“I think I’m gonna ask Gamzee if I can keep it.”

“It’s probably worth like two nickels anyways.” You slip away him, picking up his abandoned broom. Only one of you can ignore tasks at a time, so it’s your turn to be productive. Dave gasps in faux disbelief. “This puppy is at least worth 75 Cents!”

You roll your eyes once more, but don’t bother arguing. Sweeping the floor doesn’t take much longer, and you and Dave actually complete your opening tasks. Go figure, after dicking around for 40% of the shift, it take the two of you to actually get the work done. The dinosaur snapper stays planted atop the register, though. Dave never puts it back in the loose donation boxes behind the counter.

“Hey, you two motherfuckers.” Calls a throaty voice. It’s not an angry tone, just really chill. You turn over from your diligent window-wiping, (which was really just you staring at Dave snapping to an imaginary beat in the reflection like a fucking idiot.) to see your manager, Gamzee, standing over from the door to the back section of the store. Gamzee is very tall, but bone thin, with tight, curly hair that lays every which way. It somehow manages to look kind of nice, and compliments his appearance. His appearance is also crusty jeans a size too large, and a shirt so baggy he could fit two of himself inside, so the bar isn’t exactly that high.

“I need you two bromigos to help move some boxes from the back.” Gamzee gestures loosely with the hand that isn’t slipped inside his pant pocket to the aforementioned ‘back.’

“Big van just pulled up ’n dropped a load of shit off for us to root through.”

You pull yourself up from your knees and away from the window. The store opens in about 5 minutes but you figure as long as Gamzee is out on the floor you shouldn’t have much trouble. It’s not very busy early in the day anyways, or very busy ever. Dave appears at your side, and the two of you make your way out to the back.

-

It’s fucking hot out here, you think.

“Holy shit, it’s hot out here.” You report to Dave. He nods in agreement as he props the back doors open with a terribly made pair of doorstops. The shop is set up so cars can drive around the back of the store to drop donations, and employees bring them inside a room through a set of heavy double doors. The street is kind of thin, and immediately across the other side is a retaining wall, so there isn’t a ton of space to work with, but you make do. Theres a large number of boxes unloaded into the street. Mostly cardboard, but a handful of them are plastic bins. You immediately hop off the curb to haul them into the large room. You’ll probably be sorting these later today, but all you need to do right now is get them out of the street.

The boxes are heavy and you and Dave lift one after another in near-silence. He continues spewing some shitty beatboxing to himself, though. You also notice that he loiters in the doorway for you to pass whenever he’s in between boxes. They’re double doors, so there’s plenty of space. You make sure you throw him an annoyed look for wasting time, but he’s disappeared inside. Asshole.

You pick up the last box from the street, and he’s back near the doorway, doing a weird half-jog out to meet you, holding something behind his back.

“What the fuck are you doing, Strider?” You sound as annoyed as you are, which usually falls under the “very” category with him.

“Okay, so, two things,” Dave starts. He’s got a half grin on his face. “You are absolutely not going to believe what I found in that first box.”

You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time this morning. “Spit it out, fuckass.”

“Shh, Karkat, patience is a virtue.” He pulls one hand from behind his back to shush you, pressing a finger to your lips. His hand feels soft, but you recoil away before you can distract yourself with that thought. You give an over-dramatic show of spitting in disgust.

“Gross, you don’t know where that things been!” You can feel your face heat up a touch, and if Dave’s noticed it, he doesn’t say anything.

“Oh my god, shut up dude I’m getting to something here!”

You shut up, and let him proceed.

“Okay, but before that - I want you to come to my place on Saturday.”

You blink, like a fucking idiot, in surprise. Something in your stomach feels really weird about that. Why did your stomach do a flip? That was gross, it’s not supposed to do that.

“Me and some friends are all getting together for a movie night, I thought it’d be cool if you could come. I think you know some of them? Uh, Terezi, Sollux, I think Rose is inviting Kanaya, you know her. Also John, I think you’ve met him in lecture? Whatever, it’s just gonna be a thing.” He kind of rambles when you don’t say anything. You’re too preoccupied with why your insides feel really squirmy, or why you keep staring at the way his lips form the sentence.

You aren’t against a good-natured hang out, but you’re not really sure why Dave is asking. Sure, you guys have mutual friends, and a few classes together, since you both minor in Film Study, but you don’t talk outside of work, and Dave has expressed no interest in becoming more than friendly-coworkers. At least as far as you can tell.

You also don’t know how you feel about dragging yourself out of your dorm to a room full of friends you’re at all different friend-levels at. You’re close with Kanaya and Terezi. Sollux is a weird middle ground, you two basically just play video games together. While with Rose and John, you can count the amount of conversations you’ve had with both of them on one hand. You aren’t sure how you feel about mixing all of that together, or how you would even begin to act there. Mingling with people isn’t your strong suit. That sounds like a recipe for uncomfortable disaster and sweaty hands. Plus, if your stomach keeps doing this weird thing when you talk to Dave about Not-Work related things, the night will be terrible. You’re 100% not going to this thing.

“Maybe, I’ll think about it.” Is what you say. You don’t want to be an asshole about it, thats all! Dave made a kind gesture by inviting you, you can at least pretend to consider it. He seems to take that well, because his eyebrows quirk, and his smile widens.

“What was the second thing?” You ask, moving the conversation along. You’d like your skin to stop feeling so hot, but maybe thats just the sun beating down. Whatever.

“Oh, Karkat, you’re going to love this.”

You seriously doubt you’re going to love it. Dave plants both hands behind his back to whatever he’s hiding, and with a flourish, he brandishes another shitty dinosaur head. This one in an obnoxious purple color. Dave places said shitty dino head on the box you’re holding.

It’s almost endearing how fucking stupid it is. You’re certain he’s doing it for purely ironic reasons, but his lectures about irony don’t mean shit to you.

“I already asked Gamzee, and he said we could keep them.”

“Why the ever-loving fuck would I want this piece of plastic crap?”

“Well, mostly because it’s funny. Also I was thinking the pair could be government assigned girlfriends ‘cause come on look at them, dude.” Dave has a very satisfied grin on his face at the suggestion. You scoff. Your stomach does the weird thing again, which is weird and surely stupid because we’re talking about plastic dinosaurs, here.

“It’s all a part of the bit man! work with me here, I’m begging’ you.”

You look down at the dinosaur snapper. It’s got pink dots poorly painted on the snout, and derpy looking eyes. You nod approvingly.

“Fine. I’m calling her Cynthia.” you sigh in defeat. At least this dinosaur will have a kickass name. And apparently a kickass girlfriend.

“Fuck yeah!” Dave pumps triumphantly. His smile is almost contagious, but you manage to suppress your own, letting out a weird snort-breath instead.

“I’ll see you Saturday, then!” He nods to you, giving a parting salute as he does a less-weird jog back inside.

“I didn’t say I’d come, fuckass!” You call. But it’s useless, Dave has already darted out of sight. You stare at Cynthia. She stares back. You’re fucked.

-

You finished up your shift with minimal headassery, and clocked out to begin your walk home, bidding your farewell to Gamzee and Dave. You’re holding the plastic dino head, or, Cynthia you guess her name is now, loosely as you walk, and you feel a little silly holding that and nothing else. You have your phone and wallet stuffed in your pockets, and you don’t carry a bag with you anywhere. Yeah, that means sometimes you end up with your hands full of dinosaur snapper, but it saves you the awkward bulkiness of maneuvering a bag, and in your defense, you very rarely find yourself with a purple dino snapper. Being around Dave just generally makes you more susceptible to bullshit like this.

It doesn’t take you very long to walk back to your dorm building, and up the stairwell leading to your room level.

-

Right now you’re sitting on your floor, eyes closed, as your friend Kanaya does your makeup.You don’t usually wear makeup, but nights with Kanaya have a habit of ending up this way. The two of you are sitting in your dorm room, definitely past a respectable time to be asleep. Whatever, neither of you have class tomorrow, so the only thing at stake is the bags beneath your eyes threatening to get heavier. If it were a school night, Kanaya would have your head for staying up so late, let alone having company over. Her acrylic-nail clad hand expertly swipes on what feels like eyeliner.

“Tilt your head to the side, Karkat.” She commands. Kanaya speaks so clearly, it’s a wonder she’s not an English major like you. She’s always had a thing for speaking pretentiously proper. You obey, tilting your head to give her a better angle. You get the feeling that you’re more of her canvas than her model. She leans back on her pillow to view her work. Apparently she’s deemed it good enough, because she caps the liquid eyeliner, before rooting through her makeup bag for something else.

“So, Rose tells me about a small get together this Saturday.”

She makes light conversation easily, but you’ve known her long enough that she’s just building up to try and convince you to go. You didn’t tell her that Dave asked you to come, but Rose probably found out and told her.

“Mhm.” You mumble. “Strider invited me.”

Kanaya’s lips twitch up when you say that. “Are you going?” She asks.

“Are you?”

She hums, tilting her head to the side, inspecting your makeup. Or your expression, you think. You’re not sure.

“I think so, yes. Rose told me Dave invited you, as well, which is only why I ask. I thought you could ride with me, so you don’t have to walk.”

Kanaya usually offers you a ride when the two of you are going somewhere. You’re one of the few kids in the school that doesn’t have their own car. You spend a good portion of your days walking across campus. You tried to pick up skating for a little bit, but you immediately ate shit, generally sucked ass, and decided to banish the skateboard you bought to the depths of your closet. Kanaya finds what she’s looking for from her bag, and opens a small container of something.

“I don’t know if I’m going.” You shrug, loosely. She raises a brow. You hoped that she’d drop it, but she never does.

“You don’t?” She looks perplexed. “It’s in two days, Karkat. You ‘ought to give a clear answer soon.” Leave it to Kanaya to worry about that. You guess you probably should respond to Dave, otherwise your shift next week will be thoroughly awkward. Kanaya leans forward with a fluffy brush, and you snap your eyes shut.

“I mean, ‘I think so.’ Isn’t exactly the most decisive answer, either, Kan.” You retort, trying to keep your expression straight, lest you mess up the makeup. You hear her let a puff of air out of her nose.

“I’m in regular conversation with Rose. Unless something more pressing should come up, I’ll be attending. I think you should, too.” Kanaya’s usually the one pressing you to participate in social interaction, and this event is no exception. You’re content to board yourself up and watch The Notebook again, but Kan suggests you at least try and talk to people every now and again. If it weren’t for her, you’d probably never have survived any of your group projects. You should probably thank her sometime, but sometime when her doing this is not as inconvenient as right now, since you’d really rather not go.

She draws back from your face. She’s observing your silence, you know she is. “I don’t know why you’d be opposed to this particular get together. It’s all people you are generally familiar with, watching films, which you generally like. I wonder if there’s something else to your hesitation?”

You hate it when she does this. You hate it more when she’s right, though, so your hatred isn’t as vigorous this time around. “Nice try, Kan. I just think I’d have more fun watching a movie without a bunch of morons adding unwanted commentary every other minute.”

“You tell me you have an enjoyable time watching films with Gamzee. He gives an interesting amount of commentary.” She rebuttals.

“Thats different.” You cross your arms. “Gamzee and I have known each other since middle school, and his commentary is bearable.”

Kanaya gives an almost-smirk. She knows she’s a step ahead of you. She always is. You know it too, but that doesn’t stop you from arguing. “Well, it’s my understanding that you’ve also known me, Sollux, and Terezi since secondary school, and have watched multiple movies with the three of us, both as a group and independently. As for John, Dave, and Rose, I don’t believe you’ll know if their commentary is unbearable until you’ve experienced it. You may actually enjoy it a great deal, Hm?” Her voice is as calm as ever, but her lips are curved upwards in a subtly smug fashion. She knows it’s checkmate.

It’s not her argument that’s winning, per se, it’s the fact that she’s arguing on this at all. You know what she’s saying is true, it’s fucking obvious. But the fact that she points it out to you in a manner like this means she really wants you to go. You huff.

“I hate you.” You declare.

“You should text Dave of your attendance.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Her smile widens. She’s happy you’re going, and she’ll probably give you an “I’m very proud of you, Karkat.” spiel afterwards. She’s well aware you’re crossing out of your comfort zone hanging out with a group like this. She always does that spiel, and you’re secretly a little grateful for it. You get really anxious with stuff like this. You’ve gotten better since you were a kid, but it’s still not easy.

Kanaya clasps her hands together. “Your makeup is done, too.” She informs you. Your reflection in the mirror shows her work well. Kanaya really has a talent for this. (Not surprising, she’s literally a cosmetology student.)

Your eyes are donned with a deep red shadow, some fancy looking glitter technique closer to the center, and Kanayas signature deadly-sharp eyeliner. You don’t know the terms for anything thats on your face, but it definitely looks nice. You give Kanaya a thumbs up. She looks pleased.

-

You put off texting Dave a little more. Not because you feel weird about it or anything. But you do put it off. It’s Friday morning when you finally message him. You have his phone number for strictly work-related-emergencies, or work-related-discussion. You haven’t texted him much. You tap out your not-work-related message.

carcinoGeneticist (is typing): HEY, SORRY I’M JUST GETTING BACK TO THIS. I CAN MAKE IT TO YOUR MOVIE THING.

Does that sound weird? You feel like that sounds weird. Should you say sorry? You did put off responding to him, but he already kind of assumed you were coming anyways. Fuck, you need to send it. You press send. Ugh that sounds stupid. You turn off your phone and toss it to your bed. Dave will respond something stupid and you’ll go to the thing, watch a movie, and it’ll all be fine.

Unexpectedly, your phone buzzes almost immediately. Wow, ever heard of tact, Strider? You take a step to your bed, and grab your freshly tossed phone to check the message.

turntechGodhead (10:13 AM): hella dude  
turntechGodhead (10:14 AM): although I should probably mention that like a ton of people had to dip from the sweet sweet movie plans so it’s pretty much just gonna be you me and john  
turntechGodhead (10:14 AM): is that cool

Of fucking course. You want to die. In an instant, you regret messaging him at all. You guess Kanaya found something that was “More Pressing” than going to this movie thing that she seemed very interested in back when you didn’t want to go (not that you want to go now). Fuck her, you think. You wonder if her and Rose were cohorts about this.

You can’t exactly say no, since that would be rude as fuck, also you promised Kan you would go. And for no other reason except those two did you say yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Although this chapter is a little fast-paced (we've got a lot to get through, lmao) this was really fun to write, and I hope you stick around to see the rest of it unfold! I'll be updating this at least once a week, hopefully every Saturday. Thank you again! ~ Thonkus


	2. Popcorn, Vanilla, and Red Honda Civics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which John, Dave, and Karkat all get together and have a movie night. Antics ensue, but mostly gay ones.

Your name is Karkat Vantas

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you leave a little earlier than you should have for Daves apartment building. He doesn’t live on campus like the rest of your friends, which has currently required you to walk thirty minutes to find wherever the fuck he’s located. He sent you the address as soon as you confirmed your attendance, but that doesn’t stop you from getting lost, resorting to standing like an idiot as you glare at your phone map in the middle of the sidewalk, and somehow managing to end up a whole ten minutes early outside the apartment building.  
  
You sit your ass down on the pavement because heaven knows you’re not going to show up like an annoying ass guest ten minutes early to this stupid fucking movie night, and heaven also knows you’re not going to wait outside his door like a lost puppy, god forbid someone come out and see you. You guess that John is already with Dave, considering they’re best friends, but you still feel really weird coming early. Your stomach has been doing that stupid squirmy thing all throughout your walk here, and the confused looks from passerby’s as you sit outside an apartment building that is not your own, don’t exactly help.  
  
After your awkward ten minutes of solitude are up, (damn you wish someone was here with you, you hate doing shit like this and you hate doing it on your own even more.) you make your way through the front door of the apartment. You realize that you’re a fucking idiot, and that you probably should’ve given yourself more time to find his fucking room. What floor is the bastard on? You think you know how the room-number-to-floor-system works but every time something like this comes up, it’s like the system magically changes itself up just to fuck with you. You end up going to three different floors before finding the string of rooms you need. It absolutely takes more than ten minutes and you’re kicking yourself by the end of your goose chase. Whatever, you hope it counts as fashionably late.  
  
When you arrive to Daves door, (#4130. You’ve now accidentally committed it to memory.) you hastily start to overthink if you’re somehow too early again. What is fashionably late? Does anyone actually follow that code of conduct? You should probably knock on the door before someone sees you glaring at the number plate like it just stole your lunch money. Theres no door knocker, because its an apartment building for college students, and you aren’t really sure why you were expecting one, but now you’re second-guessing your knocking method without a knocker to guide you. You should really knock. You knock.  
  
It’s John who opens the door. You recognize his goofy face and crooked glasses from your film lectures. He usually sits next to Dave, and usually forgets a pencil. He recognizes your resting-bitch-face and messy hair apparently because his eyes light up and he greets you warmly.  
  
“Hey, Karkat! Come on in, Dave’s just making popcorn, and I’ve been picking out a lineup.”

You give him an awkward half-raised wave. You’re not really sure how you greet someone like John. He’s your classmate and neither of you are in class right now. You walk through the door, and he makes his way back to pile of movies. The apartment is surprisingly nice. It’s got a decent amount of space, and you’re a little bitter that Dave can afford such a nice place. Well, nice is generous. It’s not good by most standards but its better than the terrible dorm rooms you’re used to. This one actually has some walls dividing the space. Plus, his actually has a kitchen, which makes sense considering there’s no common room here for tired college students to make hot pockets in.  
  
Dave is, in fact, stood over by the microwave, making multiple bags of popcorn. He doesn’t move from his standpoint, but he does greet you nonetheless.  
  
“Hey, Vantas! Welcome to Strider de casa!”  
  
You snort, and he seems content with that response. He continues talking, though.  
  
“Do me a favor and help Egbert pick out some films. Last time I left him on his own for five minutes we ended up watching purely Nicolas Cage movies I didn’t even think I had.” His tone is hardly bitter, mostly amused. Dave has a chuckle to his voice and you feel yourself averting your eyes from him, which is especially weird because he’s just making popcorn. It’s not exactly a scandalous display. You sit down on the floor, cross-legged, to help John sort through the monstrous pile of DVD cases. He has a few set aside, that you assume make a “Watch This” pile. You begin picking up cases at random. You note most of them look like bad action movies. You don’t dig too thoroughly before you ask John, “Do you guys have Netflix?”

“What, is my movie collection too subversive for your brain, Vantas? Is it totally blowing your mind right now?” Dave calls out, ignoring that you were addressing John. You don’t really know why you were addressing John, as this isn’t his apartment either, but he was closer and you aren’t sure how to talk to Dave still. John hums for a moment.  
  
“Dave doesn’t, I’m pretty sure. Spends all his money on pizza bites and Soundcloud Premium,” John jokes, crossing his eyes to further mock Strider.  
  
“It’s good shit!” Dave calls in defense. You ignore him. John continues.  
  
“And I just mooch off of my friend Jades account. She never uses it anyways.”  
  
You nod in understanding. You also mooch off of your friends account. Well, kind of. You both split the cost, but Gamzee barely watches movies so he’s basically just paying for half of your film escapades, but you make your way over to the TV to put in the password anyways. You’ll apologize later, right now you need to find something that isn’t terribly ironic cinema.  
  
“So, why’d everybody cancel on this anyways? Did you scare them all away with your shitty taste in movies?” You don’t take your eyes off the screen, but you hear Strider laugh at your teasing.  
  
“Well, Sollux didn’t say. Rose said she had a last-minute emergency but I’m pretty sure that her and Kanaya just wanted to make out in the library instead”

You grimace. You’re not surprised. It’s still gross to think about what Kanaya and Rose might be up to at this moment, though. You’d make a mental note to let her know that was really shitty of her to leave you to fend for yourself, but you know she’s been crushing on Rose all semester, so you should probably give her a break.  
  
“Oh, and Terezi said she’d, quote, ‘Rather die than be left with you three.’” Dave puts on a very bad impression of Terezi, but you laugh at it anyways before you can stop yourself. You can’t really blame her.  
  
It takes a brief moment to get your Netflix set up, and by the time you’re done, Dave Strider has made his way over to the sofa. He sits down on the opposite side from you.

“Damn, Vantas got that Netflix money?”

“No, I share an account with Gamzee.” You explain. “I have one-half of That Netflix Money.”

  
  
You take it upon yourself to pick out the first movie of the night. You promise John that you guys will, in fact, get around to watching something with Nicolas Cage in it, but right now you’re all watching The Notebook. A choice which earned you a thorough ribbing from Strider, and an unceremonious snort from John. You’ll show them.

* * *

You’re sat, seated to Johns left. Dave is sat on the other side of John, who is holding the large bowl of popcorn, because for some reason Strider only has one massive bowl, and not enough small ones, forcing you all to share from Johns Lap-Bowl  
  
“Wait, wait so is that other guy like the future - uh fucking, - the boyfriend?” Dave interrupts. You and John both shush him in tandem. John has actually been quite immersed by the story, thought Dave still finds it necessary to ask questions or make off-handed remarks, even when he can’t name any of the characters.  
  
“You have to watch the movie, dumbass.” You hiss in his direction, shoveling a handful of popcorn into your mouth.  
  
“You guys, wait - He has a beard oh my gosh.”  
  
You nod solemnly with John. Ryan Gosling with a beard was the biggest tragedy of the whole film.  
  


* * *

  
After The Notebook comes to a close, you and John are both teary-eyed. Strider might be, but he still has his fucking shades on, even though most of the lights are off. You’re pretty sure he’s not.

“Damn.” He says.

  
“Shut the fuck up.” You say back. “That movie is the best thing to ever come from Hollywood.” John agrees, nodding vigorously. The popcorn bowl is unsurprisingly empty, and your water glasses equally so. You’ve unintentionally grown surprisingly comfortable. You’ve even tucked your knees in up to your chest, getting your socked feet all up on Daves couch. He probably doesn’t care, but you’re surprised at your feeling of ease. In your defense, it’s really fucking cold in here.  
  
Dave gets up, and stretches. His shirt rides up a bit, and you look away. “I’m going to make more popcorn for round two.” He announces.  
  
John gets up, to use the bathroom, you think, because he disappears through a door behind you. You should also probably get up, but it’s still cold as shit.  
  
“Your apartment is fucking cold, Strider.” You complain. He chuckles again, and you draw yourself out from the warmth of the criminally comfortable couch, and over to the kitchen to get more water.  
  
“I’m so damn chill, my place just has to reflect that.” He lilts.  
  
“I was half-expecting an ‘I’m so hot, It needs to balance me out’, but I guess that works too,” You taunt.  
  
“Now you’re speaking my language, Vantas!” Dave nudges you playfully with his elbow, you suddenly feel a lot less cold. “But I can grab a hoodie if you’re chilly,” He offers. Your skin feels prickly and hot right now, but you nod anyways, taking a sip from your fresh glass of water to avoid having to give an eloquent response. Dave makes his way over to where you assume his bedroom is, and you’re left alone with the whirring of the microwave, and occasional pops of popcorn. The room is dark, and only the light of the TV screen accompanies you. John is still taking a piss, and you feel like you’re doing something you’re not supposed to be doing. Like you’re intruding on a gentle scene in the dead of night. It’s only around 9:00 but you feel suspiciously tired.  
  
The microwave beeps a high-pitched wail, snapping you away from your thoughts for a brief moment. You wonder if you’d have as good of a time if everyone else was here. You think you should thank Kanaya for convincing you to come, and maybe thank her for finding something else to do, even if that something was Rose.  
  
You pull the now-popped popcorn out of the microwave, and dump it into the plastic bowl. You put another bag of popcorn in the microwave because you’re pretty sure the three of you will clear out the whole damn box at this rate. Thankfully Dave has a working “Popcorn” button on it so you don’t have to guess at times and wattage.  
  
You hear footsteps coming from where Dave left. You also hear a “Think fast!” Before you’re met with a face full of soft fabric. “Vantas, you didn’t think fast enough!” He chides, tutting. In your hands is now a soft, red hoodie. It looks like it will be absolutely too big on you, but you’re not upset at the prospect of that.

“Fuck you, you didn’t have to throw it at me! You can just hand me shit like a normal fucking person!” You snarl at him, but pull the hoodie on anyways. Your words have little effect on him, and you don’t put that much bite behind them since you’re pretty tired. As you predicted, the hoodie fucking swallows you whole. You’re not abnormally small, but Dave is definitely taller and leaner than you. You’re a twig in comparison.

  
The hoodie instantly fights the cold of the apartment, and it smells nice. it makes you kind of want to snoop and find out what detergent Dave uses, but thats almost certainly fucking creepy.  
  
You realize John is already back in the center of the couch, and you and Dave soon make your way to your respective spots.  
  
John has put in one of the movies from his pile, but you’re too distracted with running your thumb along the cuff of the hoodie sleeve the pay any attention. Maybe Dave uses some kind of special fabric softener. You’re strangely comfortable, and warm.

* * *

  
You pull yourself out of your cocoon of hoodie and legs once the final movie of the night is over. You’ve had yourself an unexpectedly good time. You’ve seen more of Nick Cage than you can handle for a lifetime, and also two of the Jurassic Park Films, all of which were terrible. It was enjoyable anyways.  
  
The stack of movie cases has been put away, and any lingering dishes have been washed up. John has already left to drive back to his apartment, and you wish you’d asked him for a ride back to campus, because now you’ll have to walk 30 minutes home in the dark. You’re pretty sure John lives in the opposite direction from campus, so maybe you’re better off walking, then. In your defense, you had assumed you were getting a ride back with Kanaya, since she lives in your same dorm building, but you kind of forgot to make a better plan when you found out she cancelled to make out with Rose.  
  
Once you’ve finally stretched yourself off of the couch, you turn to bid your goodbyes to Strider. He’s staring at you quizzically. He’s staring so intently you almost feel insecure. You growl.  
  
“Take a picture, asshat, it’ll last longer.”  
  
“Did you walk here?” he asks. He asks it with such a weird amount of forward-ness you have half a mind to be embarrassed about it. You didn’t think it was strange before but with how he’s looking through your fucking soul right now you definitely start to think it’s a little strange.  
  
In your best, ‘and-what-about-it’ voice, you shrug, and say “Yeah, so?”  
  
“I can drive you home, dude.” He says it like it’s obvious.  
  
“Strider, it’s like-“ you check your phone clock. “2:30 in the morning. If I needed a ride, I would’ve asked John.”  
  
He puts one hand on his hip, and he’s already reaching for his keys on the counter. “Exactly, it’s 2:30 in the morning. I’m not letting you walk all the way back to campus. That shits far as hell on foot. Also I’d feel bad if you got mugged or something.”  
  
“Dave, you don’t need to do that, I’ll be fine.”  
  
“Karkat, I’m not letting you go alone.”  
  
You roll your eyes and groan. You feel bad that he’s going out of his way to drive you to your dorm. However having a chance to be spared from the cold night air does sound nice, you think. He’s insisting anyways, it’s better you let him do this now and make sure he doesn’t have to again later.  
  
“Fine, but I’m paying you back for gas.”

“Yeah, yeah.”  
  


* * *

Daves notably red Honda Civic is strangely clean. You didn’t expect it to be so tidy. The thing is spotless inside and out. You’re sat in the passenger seat, and music is playing quietly from the radio. It sounds like rap. You note that his car smells like vanilla, and you also note that he doesn’t have any of those dangly-car-air-fresheners for the scent to be coming from. You two sit in pretty much silence with the occasional sound of Strider mumbling along to whatever sick beats come on the radio. His voice is low, and smooth. It practically lulls you to sleep then and there. The hoodie around you doesn’t help with you fighting off sleep, since it basically feels like you’ve been enveloped in a warm cloud.  
  
“I’m really glad you came tonight, bro.” Dave says, breaking the silence.  
  
You yawn. “Yeah, it wasn’t shitty.”  
  
Theres a beat of silence again, and you think that the conversation is finished.  
  
“Y’know, dude, me and Egbert have regular movie nights like that. You should join us again.” Dave spares a glance over to you, before turning his eyes back to the road. His eyes are unfairly focused on driving, and his tongue pokes out a bit as he makes turns. You realize you’re staring.  
  
You’re really tired, and utterly unsure of what you’re signing yourself up for. And those are the only two reasons you sleepily mutter a “Fuck, why not?” in response.  
  
You hear Dave let out a small laugh through his nose, and you ride the rest of the way in silence.

You never end up actually falling asleep in his car, thank goodness, but you definitely have your eyes closed the entire ride. When he pulls up to the lot, you stretch again, (not that it actually helps) and go to unlock your car door. You’re not positive on how to end this interaction, but your brain is also extra groggy right now. The two of you exchange final “Thanks for coming”s and “Thanks for the ride”s before landing on a goodbye-fistbump. You pull yourself out of the car.  
  
“I’ll see you for Mondays shift, then. Later Vantas!”  
  
You wave goodbye to him as he pulls out of the lot, and you begin your much shorter walk to your dorm room. You yawn, and stuff your hands in his hoodie pocket.  
  
Oh fuck, you still have his hoodie.  
  
You’re tired.  
  
You’re too tired to think about how that aligns with several of your romantic fantasies, in fact.  
  
You walk back to your dorm room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Thank you again for reading this chapter of You Got Cool! This was heavily based on my own Movie Night experiences, so I hope I did them justice! ~ Thonkus


	3. Kanaya Maryam And Eridan Empora Are Both Not Buying Your Bullshit, Collectively.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kanaya finds a plastic fucking dinosaur, Karkat has not-homosexual thoughts, and Eridan has thoughts about Karkats not-homosexual thoughts

Your name is Karkat Vantas.  
  
Your name is Karkat Vantas, and every other Saturday, you sit seated to Johns left like every other fucking movie night. Dave is sat on the other side of John, like every other fucking movie night. After movie night, Dave Strider drives you back to your dorm, and never lets you pay him back for gas. This is the routine you’ve settled on, and you’ve been keeping it up for almost a month. You’ve also never given Strider his hoodie back, not at all because you decided that giving it back would be too cliche and would give him the opportunity to insist that you keep it, which also aligns very heavily with some of your romantic fantasies. No, instead you’ve decided to keep it because it’s soft, and if he’s stupid enough to give it to you in the first place, he’s stupid enough to lose a hoodie. Thats what you tell yourself.   
  
But right now you are not sat seated to John Egbert's left, nor is Dave Strider on the other side of nonexistent John Egbert. Instead, you’re sat in your room, hanging out with Kanaya again. You will be sat seated to Johns left, with Dave sat on the other side of John, but later in the night. Right now, you’re spending some quality time with your friend. Quality time that involves her rooting through your dresser drawers like an episode of _Queer Eye_. She does this when you’ve worn the same pair of black jeans for too long.

  
“Karkat, you have plenty of fine clothes in here, I don’t know why you insist on wearing dirty jeans.”  
  
She chides you like a mother scolds her child, but it’s honestly par for the course now. Eventually she'll force you to go to your buildings laundromat and wash some of your clothes, and you'll grumble like an angsty teen all the way. It’s how you two work.   
  
Instead of pulling out another pair of pants for emphasis, Kanaya's face scrunches in something that could be confusion or disgust, and you feel something in the pit of your stomach. You really hope you didn’t leave anything unseemly in that drawer, but you barely look through it so you aren’t sure. Her brows are still furrowed and her expression doesn’t move a muscle. She pulls something out of the drawer, and you hold your breath  
  
  
“Oh, Cynthia.” You sigh in relief. You sound stupid saying it, but thats because it’s a stupid thing to say. In her hand, Kanaya has clutched the purple dinosaur snapper. She carefully pulls the lever, giving it a snap. She looks at you with upmost confusion.   
  
“Cynthia?” She asks, carefully. This is definitely the weirdest thing she’s found in your room. Mostly empty ice cream tubs and loose socks are the most interesting thing. You try your best to keep your room at least a little bit normal out of shame. Thats why the dinosaur head is even in your drawer anyways. Sollux was coming over the other day, and you didn’t really feel like explaining it.  
  
But now you have to explain the damn thing anyways, so it wasn’t the most effective strategy.   
  
You fold your arms defensively. “Cynthia. She’s a stupid fucking dinosaur toy that Strider snagged from the shop. He has a matching one, named Betty White. They’re married or whatever.”   
  
Kanaya's mouth tugs cautiously into an almost-smile, but her brows are still displaying her confusion.   
  
“And you kept it?”   
  
“I mean, yeah, what else was going to do with the piece of garbage?”   
  
Her eyebrows slide further up her head. Maybe it’s because you don’t like keeping trinkets in your room, or maybe its because once you told her that you throw away stuff so often because you don’t want to end up a hoarder like your mother, and you find yourself getting way too attached to garbage in the first place, so it’s better that you just throw it all out. Or maybe its because in the 13 years she’s known you, you’ve never once kept something of Cynthias sort. You threw away all your childhood toys in your teenage years out of fear of judgement, and it’s a practice you’ve kept up since. You’ve never had something like Cynthia in your room on purpose.   
  
“Dave, you said, has a matching one?”  
  
You can tell the gears in her head are turning, and she’ll probably report it to Rose the second she walks out the door. You make sure to tell her you think so.  
  
“What, you looking for another excuse to make out with your girlfriend behind some bookshelves?” You sneer. Kanaya has the decency to look embarrassed. Dave ended up being right on the mark with his guess as to why the pair missed movie night. You’re not surprised, Rose and him are as close as twins could be, and you’re suspicious that they have a telepathic bond.  
  
“That’s not why I’m personally interested, no. Perhaps you’re interested in making out with Dave behind the shelves of Graveyard Thrift, and are pointedly projecting?”   
  
You can feel your ears go red hot, and you point an accusing finger at Kanaya. You and Dave are not like Kanaya and Rose, not at all. You think she only said that to get you riled up, and to shift the conversation from herself, but whatever the reason, it’s definitely got you irate. Mostly because Kanaya is a very observant girl, and you definitely didn’t think you were that obvious. Not obvious about wanting to make out with Dave, of course, because you can’t be obvious about wanting something you’ve absolutely completely never thought about before. Still, Kanaya has the audacity to look smugly at you, and your face burns. She’s successfully pulled the conversation away from her making out with Rose.   
  
You’re in college, but you’ve never had a relationship before. At least not one that you count. You’ve had a ‘will-they-wont-they’ thing with Terezi in high school, but it inevitably ended on a ‘wont’, so it’s irrelevant. You still find yourself as easily flustered by the concept of it all as you were in high school, which doesn’t help you convince Kanaya of anything when you’re so obviously effected. You two stare at each other challengingly for a moment, but your brain isn’t focused on her. It’s completely absolutely not thinking about Strider kissing you against the wall right now, for the record. But it’s not focused on Kanaya either. It’s only when she clears her throat that you realize you’ve zoned out.   
  
  
“Okay, first of all, fuck you for even insinuating that!” You babble. “He’s my fucking coworker, and thats it!”   
  
“You go to his house every other week.” She shrugs, baiting you. You know she’s doing it, but you fall for it anyways.  
  
“Fuck you, thats unrelated!”

“I see, I didn’t realize that spending time cuddled on a couch with Dave in his private residence was unrelated to your claim of being ‘just coworkers’. My apologies.”   
  
  
  
“You’ve been spending too much time with Rose,” You decide. “You’re picking up her sarcasm. And we do not cuddle! John’s sat inbetween us, anyhow.”  
  


  
“But otherwise you and Dave would cuddle?”   
  
“Fuck you to the moon and back.” You pull out your phone to not-so passive aggressively tell her that you’re done talking about this, when you catch the time. 8:24, the clock reads.  
  
  
“Shit, I need to go.”  
  
“Movie night?” She asks. You stare at her, with your lips pursed tight. She knows your schedule.   
  
Kanaya rolls her eyes. Kanaya Maryam rolls her fucking eyes. Rose really has rubbed off on her. “Go on, we’ll catch up another time.”  
  
She shoos you outside of your own room, and wishes you well on your walk to “Strider De Casa.”

* * *

  
  
Your movie night continues as usual, with you sat seated to Johns left like every other fucking movie night. Dave is sat on the other side of John, like every other fucking movie night. You all watch an assortment of movies, and argue meaninglessly over them. Dave Strider drives you home afterwards. Everything is normal, but you feel a little hot with the red hoodie on this time. You ask Strider if he’s changed his thermostat. He has not.  
  


* * *

  
  
Normally, you’d be having lunch in Kanayas car right now, but you overheard her and Rose arranging lunch plans together, and Kanaya would surely not appreciate you sat in the back seat of her pristine mini cooper while you watch the two of them eye-fuck. Or real-fuck, you don’t know. You don’t want to think about that. You’d also have typically called up any number of your other, closer friends to have lunch with, but unfortunately none of them have a similar class schedule to you aside from Eridan. Also unfortunately, you don’t have a car, and don’t fancy walking several miles to get some French fries, midday in April.   
  
You don’t know Eridan incredibly well, and solely hang out with him one-on-one, but your friendship is at a point where you feel comfortable freeloading in his car, and he feels comfortable letting you do so with minimal complaints. You’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, with one of your knees pulled up, and the other leg propped up on his dash. Eridan parked overlooking a stupid lake. Apparently he frequently takes his lunch here to eat. You don’t see the point, but you’re also not the one driving, so it’s whatever. It’s hot as balls, so the AC is working very hard to keep you two cooled. It kind of stings your eyes.   
  
You’re not in a very uproarious conversation, but it’s fine. You’re too busy stuffing fries in your face to care. Eridan does most of the talking, for you. He mostly talks about people in his band class, but he turns the conversation to you after a bit.   
  
Eridan swallows a bite of Mcflurry. “So why didn’t you get lunch with that Dave guy, instead?” he’s legitimately asking you, like its causal conversation. He looks at you expectantly, awaiting an answer.   
  
Your mouth is full of bad frenchfries. “What do you mean? Why would I ride with fucking Strider for lunch?”   
  
“Well, aren’t you guys dating?”   
  
You almost choke on your crappy McDonalds fries. You cough into your elbow, and hope that your face is just hot because the AC stopped working. You put on quite a show hacking on your food, kind-of-laughing while you do it to try to downplay what the fuck is happening right now.   
  
You’ve absolutely never thought about your fucking coworker like that in your fucking life. Not once, you tell yourself. You sputter some more before turning to Eridan with an incredulous look. Your head is spinning with a million exclamations, rebuttals, and pointed defenses, that all you can get out is a single, eloquent “No!”   
  
Eridan raises an eyebrow in genuine confusion. He definitely doesn’t buy it.

“Where in hell did you hear that load of crap?!” You manage to say, even with the growing lump in your throat.  
  
Eridan still looks like he doesn’t believe you, which is honestly ridiculous considering you’re right here, telling him that No, you and Strider are not dating. He speaks slowly, like he’s approaching a pissed-off lion. Or probably more like a pissed off rattle-snake, as you’re far too skronny and short to be seen as lion-like.   
  
“I mean, you guys are in each others posts a lot.”  
  
You don’t post much on social media, and pretty much only your close friends follow you, save for a handful of classmates. When you think about it, Dave does find himself in the background your instagram story pretty often, but only because he happens to be there while you’re ranting needlessly to the camera. Your last proper post also features him in one of the slides, but only because you and your coworkers all went white-water rafting as an “employee bonding” earlier this year. And sure, You find yourself in more than a few of Daves posts and stories, but only because he likes to fuck with you and pull stupid harmless pranks on you at work, and also likes to post them for his larger-than-yours instagram following. (Seriously, how many people does he know?!)  
  
Considering that all that is pretty much useless garbage for the argument, you give Eridan another look of flustered disbelief, which he takes as incentive to continue.   
  
“You’re basically always wearing that fucking hoodie.”

Eridan grabs at one of the strings of your- er, Daves, red hoodie. You bat his hands away. You do wear it a lot, but mostly because it’s fucking cold in the school, and Daves hoodie is particularly large and comfortable compared to yours. You don’t know where the hell he got it but it’s managed to stay just as soft as when you took it after multiple washes. All your other hoodies just aren’t as cozy. You make a face at Eridan. 

“So?! It’s comfortable, what does that have to do with anything?”   
  
Eridan huffs, almost determined to prove a point that doesn’t exist. He crosses his arms, mirroring your posture.  
  
“He always drops you off at your dorm like, super late at night.”  
  
You’re slightly taken aback by that one, and you’re a little worried at what he’s implying. Did he mean for that to sound the way it does or are you looking too far into it? Fuck, something your chest did that shitty thing again.  
  


“What are you trying to say there, shithead?!” You spit.  
  
“I’m just saying that pretty much everyone was sure you two were a thing. Or at least everyone in band.” Eridan recounts, looking defensive.   
  
“Well! We’re not!” You huff. You’re positively overreacting, which makes Eridan even more suspicious. You don’t care. “So, you go tell all your fellow fucking flutists that shit.”  
  
“I play clarinet, but whatever. You guys fight like an old married couple, I don’t know what you expected.”  
  
“Not all of us have a weird hate-fuck thing going on, ‘Ampora’” you sneer. He flushes at that. Theres only one person who calls him by his last name.   
  
_“Sollux and I are not shagmates, Karkat!_ ” He shoots up dead straight just to look down at your slouched figure. His accent comes in thicker when he’s like this. You roll your eyes. “Sure thing, Eridan.”  
  
“We aren’t!” He flings his hands up in annoyance. “You’re fucking insufferable.”  
  
“Thats your job. And while Sollux is an ass, I wouldn’t say insufferable.” You stick your tongue out as him as he dissolves into angry muttering.  
  
You return to your terrible frenchfries. You guess he isn’t actually going to bother setting the record straight, but you can at least pretend he will. For now, you sit in hollow victory. Too many people are thinking you are Dave are dating for your liking. Not that you’d like anyone to think that, but thats beside the point. You don’t want to wonder why people think that any more. It makes your hands all sweaty and your face go pink. You try not to think about it, but your chest still feels weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I apologize this is posted later in the day, but better late than never! ~Thonkus


	4. Tacky Prom Dresses + Internalized Homophobia = A Gay Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you think I've abandoned any concept of a slowburn, but you're dead wrong. (Feat. Demi Lovato.)

Your name is Karkat Vantas.  
  
Your name is Karkat Vantas, and right now, you’re goofing off with Strider when you’re both supposed to be working. The store is dead empty, save for Gamzee who’s playing solitaire on the work computer. Dave Strider is currently in the nearest dressing room, trying on the most ridiculous outfit you could find from the donation boxes. You’ve blessed him with a pair of knee-high converse and a hideous turquoise prom dress. Thankfully, it’s not a full length down, so the shoes will be shown to their fullest extent. Dave whips the curtains back with a flourish, wincing a bit at the light when he does so. He’s staring dead into you, with the frumpy dress skirt splayed out awkwardly. The shoes look like someone had them dragged from the back of a car for a number of days, and one of them is missing the lacing altogether.  
  
You fucking lose it.  
  
Dave Strider has the biggest shit-eating grin on, and you thankfully have your phone out to capture the moment. He does some swift ironic posing, and blows you a kiss.  
  
“Fucking stellar,” You comment. You’d say that it’s payback for when two rounds ago he made you wear a pair of ratty ass pajama pants, which you think had a pattern on them at one point, a terrible shirt that just said the word “Juicy” on it in yellow rhinestone, and a pair of dual plastic swords to wield, but he seems to be having a fun time showing off. You two don’t have a name for this game you play, but you do it whenever the store is really empty. It’s resulted in a large pile of hideous clothing on the floor that you promise Gamzee you’ll clean up.  
  
Dave takes a step toward you, and your phone, which is thankfully still filming. He’s eating this shit up. He begins to recite that one part in ‘Lala Land’ by Demi Lovato, as if to serenade you.

“C’mon, Vantas, sing with me!”  
  
“Oh my god, no!” You shriek. He steps closer to you, before grabbing one of your hands dramatically, his other hand resting on his heart.  
  
_“Who says? I can’t wear my converse, with my dress?!”_  
  
_“Well baby, thats just me!”_  
  
The two of you are a fit of giggles and snorts, as he leads you in a weird jumpy dance. He’s very dedicated to the bits he does, especially when you resist. You’re howling with laughter, and you’re pretty sure Gamzee is staring.

“Get your hands off me, Strider!”  
  
“Tell me I’m a pretty ass lady, Vantas, have some manners!”  
  
Before you can tell Strider what a pretty ass lady he is(n’t), The bell from the front of the store chimes, and Dave pulls away from you. You frown, before remembering that you’re here to work, and not fuck around. He waves to the customer, who looks thoroughly concerned at the two of you. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing again.

“Can I help you find anything?” Strider says, like he’s not wearing a turquoise prom dress.  
  
“No.. No thank you.” The poor customer settles on, after a moment. They swiftly make their way into the store, and away from you two. The second they pass into the array of shelves and racks, you two turn into balls of laughter again.  
  
“Oh my gosh, Strider.” You hiss through your snorts  
  
“What? I think this color looks great on me, personally, I don’t know what their deal was.” As he jokes, he looks a little pained, and you snicker to yourself at his expense. He probably just wasn’t expecting his irony to land him in this area. He shuffles behind the dressing room curtain again, and you start to pick up the array of discarded garments you’ve left on the floor. It looks like your game of tacky dress up is through, which bums you out a little, but it’s put you in good enough spirits that you work without complaint. You take the pile back to the donation bins, and you don’t see Dave again on your shift.  
  


* * *

  
  
The store falls to a slowing pace again, only a handful of people in the building. You whip out your phone while you sit next to Gamzee at the register. You rewatch the video of Dave that is displayed proudly on your instagram story. You two look positively giddy.You can hear your laughs back, and you cringe a little at your voice. You’d almost take it down if it wasn’t hilarious as fuck. Plus, most of your friends have already seen it, so there’s no point in it now. In fact, one of your friends, Nepeta, has sent you a message regarding the instagram story. You haven’t seen her in a while, since she goes to a different school, but you stay in touch. You open her message.  
  
_“:33 < !!! He looks like Terezi at senior Prawm! “_  
  
You laugh aloud reading the message. The resemblance is uncanny, when you look at the video of him. You think he’d find that a fitting comparison. You and your friends never knew Dave in highschool, but you’re pretty sure you have a photo of Terezi from that night somewhere on your phone.  
  
  
You look up to Gamzee. “Where’s Strider gone?”  
  
Gamzee looks at you for a moment, like he’s trying to take all of you in. You reach to fiddle with one of your bracelets nervously. He's just staring at you. He pulls you in for a tight hug.  
  
“Er- Uh- Hey?” You stutter. Gamzee’s definitely a hugger, you knew that, but now didn’t really peg you as the time for an embrace.  
  
“I’m really proud of you, Karbro.” He pulls back, with his staple lopsided grin.  
  
“Thank…you?”  
  
Gamzee’s been with you since you were a kid. He’s seen every side of you - The bad, the worse, and the ugly. You don’t know what he has to be proud of you for.

It’s like he’s read your thoughts. “I just am, little buddy. You’ve come a long way.” 

You’re looking for something in his eyes, anything. Have you? Maybe, you don’t know. You think back to your stupid games with Dave. Is that what he meant? I mean Dave definitely gets you out of your comfort zone, thats for sure. But you wouldn’t say he’s changed you, has he?  
  
You’re definitely not the person you were before you met him. So you guess that means ‘yes.’  
  
You take Gamzee in a hug again. “Thanks, Gam.” you whisper.  
  
“Absolutely, Karbro.”  
  
You smile back at him.  
  
“Dave is on break in the back.” He tells you. You nod. You’re happy. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
You walk to the back for your own break. You notice, though, that the lights in the room are off when you open it. Thats weird. Whats weirder, still, is that Dave Strider is curled up in a ball in the corner of the couch. It’s dark, but not entirely so. You can see, but you kind of wish you couldn’t. He has his arms folded over his eyes, and he looks like he’s in pain. Oh shit, you should leave. It feels vulnerable, seeing him like this. You’re used to him being sarcastic and snarky, but now his blond locks fall messily, and he looks pitiful. You pad over to his spot on the sofa, your feet are moving before you can think twice.  
  
“Dave?”  
  
Your voice is soft, softer than you want it to be. You almost don’t recognize the tone. You reach out a hand to place on his shoulder, but decide against it. Your hand hands uselessly in the air. You and him aren’t strangers to playfully tapping or batting one another, but your too-heavy hands have never travelled anywhere on him with intent like this. Intent to comfort.  
  
Maybe you should leave him alone. He’s not moving, or making a sound. He’s still breathing, clearly, so you feel like you’re intruding. You start to back off.  
  
His hand grabs your wrist before you can walk away. You choke on your own saliva. His hands are distinctly warm. Too warm, you think. The heat is nothing short of addictive. Your eyes dart from his hand wrapped around your wrist, to his shadeless eyes.  
  
Oh.  
  
_Oh._  
  
Dave’s head is now looking up to meet you. His sunglasses are discarded in his lap, and his eyes are exposed for you to see.

  
  
They’re red.  
  
_They’re fucking gorgeous._  
  
Oh, and they also have tears pouring out of them. You decide to focus on that part.  
  
“Holy fuck, Dave are you okay?” Your voice is a whisper, but he still bristles when you speak. He blinks hard, and nods.  
  
“Fuckin’ Migraine. Really bad.” He explains. His voice is tight, and he basically just grunts the words he needs to say. His jaw is clenched from pain. That explains the tears, you think to yourself.  
  
“‘M okay. Gamzee knows ‘lready.” he grimaces. He’s obviously not doing as okay as he says he is. Judging by the bottle of non-descript medication you spot on the coffee table, he’s already done what he can for himself. His hand is still clutching your wrist, and the heat prickles up your arm and throughout your body. Your chest feels tight. You’ve never seen Dave like this. You’re not really sure what to do, but you do know that you’re not keen on leaving this poor guy to suffer all by himself. On second thought, maybe he wants to be alone. You don’t know.  
  
“Do you want me to stay?”  
  
You don’t know what you want the answer to be. You don’t know anything in this moment. You’re holding your breath, every part of your body is telling you to run off with your tail between your legs, and never talk about this again. You don’t think you can handle it. But something else is screaming at you to fucking stay. You can’t decide, so it’s up to Strider.  
  
“Please?” Is all he says. He makes a noise of discontent, and kind of rolls his eyes to himself. “That sounded stupid, you don’t have to.”  
  
Damn it, Strider. You hesitate, and you hope he doesn’t notice that you have to talk yourself up just to sit next to him. Without breaking contact from his hand, you let yourself down onto the couch directly next to him. The rest of him is just as warm as his hands, you discover, and the rest of _you_ is rapidly raising in temperature. You ignore your blushing face and proceed, silently thankful that his eyes are clamped tight again. You’re having trouble swallowing your own spit. Dave is so close to you that you can practically hear his heart beat, and you’re afraid he can hear yours. You lean your head against him. You don’t know why you did that.  
  
“Is this okay?” You mumble. You kind of hope he says no. You kind of hope he tells you to get the fuck off of him, and out of the room. He doesn’t. You’re secretly glad.  
  
You feel him nod his head, without saying a word. His hand isn’t clutching as tightly as before, and it finds its way to intertwine its fingers with yours.  
  
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Your face is exploding with color, and you really hope his eyes are still closed, because you’re sure you’ve never looked so pathetically flustered in your life. Dave seems less tense, and his breathing is more even. You’re glad about that.  
  
You’re curled up with Dave Strider on the couch in your break room. Your hands are intertwined, and your brain can’t focus on a single thing. His entrancing red eyes? The smell of his shirt? The radiating body heat thats making your head spin and your stomach churn? Your brain is running mad trying to keep track. You absentmindedly run your thumb over his knuckles, which isn’t helping you focus at all.  
  
It’s a domestic scene, but your heart is thumping in its cage, red hot alarms warning you to Get The Fuck Out Of There at any cost. You stay planted with Dave, despite the internal war you’re having. It’s embarrassing how some instinctual part inside you won you over to lead to this. Something deep in you begs you to stay, to get closer, but something more surface level is screaming to run far away and hide, making sure no one knows this ever had a chance of happening.  
  
Your brain has an even larger infinite amount of things to worry about, when he brings his spare hand up to comb through your hair. Holy shit. You honest-to-god whimper right then and there. You really hope he didn’t hear it but you’re really sure he did. God your throat is tight, how did you even make that noise? Your shoulders involuntarily relax at his touch, and you’re ashamed even more for that. Is this okay? Is this normal? Is this allowed to happen? His hands run through your messy hair, and across your scalp, till his fingers trace all the way down to the nape of your neck and back again. It feels embarrassingly good, and you bite your lip so you don’t let out another noise. His touch is light, and you want more of it, while simultaneously knowing you would probably implode if you even thought about it. You exhale a breathy sigh that is way more audible than you meant it to be.  
  
You think this is relaxing for him. You hope it is. You’d normally worry that he’s just doing this for ample blackmail later, but you think he’s in too much pain to do that. At least thats what you really need to hear right now, because this is a lot of blackmail material. You’d probably die on site if word of this got out, or honestly even if you had the guts to think about it for too long.  
  
Your hands are sweaty, your eyes can’t lock in on anything. Both your body and brain are fucking exhausted, and all you’ve done is spend time close to Strider. This shouldn’t be effecting you as much as it is. God, you feel sick, but it’s almost compulsive how you lean into him. You want more.  
  
You shut your eyes, trying to steady your own breath in time with Dave's. His hands work hypnotically in your hair. You’re okay with this.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Your name is Gamzee Makara.  
  
Your name is Gamzee Makara, and two of your employees - One of which is your best friend, since middle school - have fallen asleep on the break room couch cuddled up together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, thank you all for reading! This chapter is one of my favorites to write for sure. Although, don't be fooled! We still have ten chapters to go, and it's not just gonna be Davekat fluff-land up in here. Strap on up you rats!


	5. Mall Rats, Mall Rats, Mall Rats!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Karkat has a good time with his friends, and reminisces on the past.

Your name is Karkat Vantas.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and driving to the mall is about as chaotic as it always is with Gamzee at the wheel. For such a silent mysterious type, he drives like a madman. Eridan is clutching Sollux’s headrest in front of him so hard you’re worried he might rip into it at some point. Eridan also lets out periodic yelps and curses when Gamzee makes too fast of a turn. Terezi, on the other hand, is eerily calm as she always is when Gamzee drives. You’d think she’d be more afraid than the rest of you considering she can’t see if you guys crash or not, but she’s instead happily chatting away to Sollux from the seat over. You’re sat in the back, next to Eridan, and although you’ve spent a good portion of time in Gamzee’s dirty car, you still find yourself tensed up, shouting in tandem with Eridan.   
  
Gamzee’s car is certainly one thats well-loved, which is a very polite term to say that you’re surprised it even starts up, it’s so beaten. It always smells like weed, which makes you wonder why he’s not more careful when he drives, because if a cop pulled you all over right now you’re sure you’d be arrested the second they had a whiff of the vehicle. Fast-food bags litter the floor of the minivan, so you can barely put your feet down. The AC is also broken, which means in addition to ICP music, wind is constantly flapping in your ears.

  
“I knew I should have driven!” Eridan shouts over the noise. His scarf hits him elegantly in the face.   
  
  
Sollux is absentmindedly playing a video game on his phone as he talks to Terezi, but he makes sure to throw a quip to Eridan over his shoulder. “You’re a terrible driver, Ampora. I’d take Gamzee over you any day!” You note that Eridan turns a shade redder with annoyance.   
  
“Just because you can’t handle the rainbow rumpus party town happening right now, doesn’t mean the rest of us are babies too!” Terezi laughs wickedly. She and Sollux fistbump.  
  
  
After the illegally fast car ride, Gamzee skids to a stop and clunks the ignition off. You sigh in relief, climbing out of your seat after Terezi and Sollux.   
  
“You park like shit.” You hear Eridan’s voice as he too, exits the minivan. Gamzee doesn’t respond to him, opting to shrug with a distant grin.   
  
You haven’t been to the mall in forever, but you still know the place like the back of your hand. You used to come here like clockwork, every weekend with your friends. Although about half of them aren’t with you now, a wave of nostalgia still washes over you. You remember being annoying high school Mall Rats, getting angry looks from irate cashiers, and shoving yourselves into the tiny, tiny photo booths together. You still have all those pictures in a box on your desk. They’re good memories to look back on, even if you aren’t as close with all of them anymore. You still have an active group chat with everyone, but it’s not the same as when you were kids. Thats okay, you think.   
  
  
Terezi drags you out of your thoughts by shamelessly sniffing your red hoodie. She’s probably wondering why you’re wearing a hoodie in late April, but you’ve been known to wear even less weather-appropriate clothing in the past.  
  
“Where did you get this?” she taps her fingers to her thumbs on each hand, trying to place your scent. Your shoulders tense up. Shit, can she still smell Dave on this thing? You wash it regularly, yet Terezi’s nose knows no bounds.   
  
“Why does that matter? It’s a fucking hoodie.”   
  
You spot Eridan raise a brow towards you. Whoops, you forgot that he knows this is Dave’s. He thankfully doesn’t say anything.  
  
“It smells…” Terezi leans back in to sniff you again, you push her face away. “It smells… not like you! Gah!”   
  
She gets frustrated when she can’t place a scent, and you almost feel a little bad for not telling her. Terezi looks - or, smells - you up and down again. “It doesn’t smell all the way like Karkat.” She states, definitively.  
  
“I got it at Graveyard Thrift, it’s been worn by other people, dumbass.”   
  
Gamzee takes after Eridan, and raises a brow at you. You should probably stop telling lies in the vicinity of people who know you’re lying. Terezi crosses her arms, and gives up. She makes her way into the mall while muttering something about ‘Smelling bullshit.’  
  


* * *

  
  
As you follow your friends into the building, the familiar smell of the food court invades your nostrils. Cinnamon pretzel stands, cheap Chinese food, and a nondescript Smoothie Place all mix into a concoction of delightful (and not so delightful) scents, in tandem with the chatter of the patrons in the area. For a moment you wonder how Terezi isn’t compromised by all the smells, but considering she’s honed her nose ever since she lost her vision, (which was in middle school) she’s had time to get used to stuff like this. In fact, she’s the one who eagerly grabs your arm, and drags you through the court to the rest of the mall. The rest of your friends aren’t far behind, judging from the footsteps and voices. With Terezi pulling you around, and her timeless grin, you feel kind of like a kid again. It’s nice.   
  
You all hit up the usual spots in the mall. Sollux forces everyone to spend an almost unbearable time at a nerdy game story while he picks out card packs, and Terezi makes a purchase of a plushie crossbody purse shaped like a dragon. Sollux informed her it was from a video game franchise, but Terezi brushed him off in favor of her new ‘Kickass dragon companion’  
  
Your group makes their way over to another store, after deciding you’ve annoyed the nerd shop to your pleasure - You’re going to _HotTopic_ , to be exact, where your friends can all buy useless crap. Although, to be fair, you yourself haven’t bested the urges of buying useless crap at the mall, and are holding your own set of bags filled with an array of merchandise that you don’t need, but like anyways. You’re also holding Sollux’s water bottle, because his hands were full, and he mumbled something about needing to hold Eridan’s shopping bag, too. You decide not the question him, but make sure he knows you want to. He glares at you back. Nice.   
  
  
_“Bonk!”_   
  
  
You feel something soft press against your back. You turn around, and see Terezi grinning at you. The Bonking Tool appears to be her newly acquired dragon-purse. It’s black beady eyes stare at you. You can’t help but feel a little emotional. You’ve really missed hanging out with your friends like this. You and Terezi aren’t exactly wordy with affection, but the Bonking is a gesture that holds more words than even you can spit. You bonk the dragon purse back with your index finger.   
  
“Bonk.”   
  
Terezi beams. She claps her hand on your back in approval.   
  
“C’mon Karkles, lets get our scene kid on!” She declares, guiding you along to catch up with the others, and make your way into the hottest of topics.   
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
As it turns out, _HotTopic_ isn’t really the scene-wonderland you all remember it to be, but it’s fun nonetheless. You and your friends root through buckets of pins and buttons, try on hideously patterned clothes, and curse the mainstream-ness of _Pop!Funko_ figurines. You can’t contain your laughter when Terezi mimes herself spitting on the jewelry display.   
  
“Fuck this Melanie Martinez bitch, I want the Kandi Kid days back!” She declares. You erupt into a fit of laughter again. The Kandi Kid Days of your friend group were certainly something. You never participated much, but Terezi, Nepeta, and your other friend at the time, Vriska, would all roll up to school with beaded bracelets and cuffs up to their elbows. Vriska also offered shitty raccoon-tail dye jobs in her moms bathroom on weekends, which was an offer you never took her up on.   
  
Arbitrary as it may be, sometimes making fun of popular stuff is funny, even if you know none of it matters anyways. Plus, all of you end up buying something from HotTopic anyways, so it’s all bark and no bite. You do get strange looks from the cashiers, but as far as your friend group is concerned, it’s all harmless fun.   
  


* * *

Sitting in the food court with your friends, you’re presently the butt end of some good-natured ribbing. Sollux’s voice rises above the laughter.  
  
“Wait, wait! Do you guys remember how that even started? What was his name?”   
  
Your friends are currently laughing at the memories of your cursed ‘Punk Phase’, which is what you were busy doing while the girls were all into the more raver-esc scene. Although even now you wear black more often than not, your punk phase was something else - truly a sight to behold. Especially because you got into it as a massive poser who wanted nothing more but to impress the cute, actually punk guy in your math class.  
  
Terezi thinks for a minute, before gasping. “Micah! Oh my god, Micah fucking Whitman!” she shouts. You remember Micah all too well. His awful box-dye hair that you were decidedly charmed with, his terrible bad-boy aura. You cringe at your past self, who was very easily starstruck by the concept of him.  
  
“Shut the fuck up, oh my god.” You groan, grabbing a bite of food off of her plate. You’re having too good of a time to be really upset, though.   
  
“You were so gay for him, how did we not notice?” Eridan snorts. None of your friends recognized your obsession with Micah as a crush - Hell, neither did you. It’s entertaining in a schadenfreude-type way, even if its targeted to Past Karkat.   
  
“Well at least I didn’t spend my freshman year chasing a comp-het crush.” You stick your tongue out to Eridan, and he gasps melodramatically. Even Gamzee laughs at that one. You give yourself an internal high-five, and Terezi an external one.   
  
You’re having a great time. You joke, and laugh, and thoroughly annoy your fellow mall-goers. Gamzee raises a toast, and you all cheers your styrofoam cups together to commemorate the reliving of your mall rat days. After you’ve all spent enough time being loud, obnoxious, and harassing the place to your hearts content, you all pile back into Gamzee’s Weed-Van and head back to campus. You notice Eridan pull Terezi aside on your walk back to the parking lot, and when you all climb back in, Terezi and Eridan have swapped seats. The wind is blowing just as hard, but Gamzee has the radio shut off, and is even driving with a little less reckless abandon. The drive home is quiet. All of you are tuckered out from the full day, it seems. Eridan is resting his eyes, and Sollux is pretending not to stare at him. You scoff to yourself at their ridiculousness.   
  
You lean your head on your palm, and look out the window. The wind ruffles your hair ridiculously, but you don’t really care if you look stupid or not. Terezi sniffs next to you. She then gently hits her fist against her armrest in realization.  
  
“Strawberries!” She quietly exclaims.   
  
“Huh?”  
  
“The hoodie - It smells like strawberries.”   
  
You nod.   
  
  
“Vanilla, too.” You add.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all for reading! This chapter was a bit shorter, but I enjoyed writing it out greatly! (Again, this is based heavily on my own experience of Being A Stupid Mall Teen and Dicking Around With Friends lmao)
> 
> I also think I might shift to updating this twice a week? I'm not sure, but all the chapters are pre-written out, and I'm very excited to share the story with you guys. The new update would probably come out on Wednesday, and Saturday updates would remain the same. But how do you guys feel about it? Would you guys prefer the weekly suspense, or to bump the schedule up a notch? Let me know, thanks! ~ Thonkus


	6. I Thought He Was A Jerk, Like, Ironically

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything falls apart, Dave misinterprets everything, and Karkat feels like shit.

Your name is Karkat Vantas.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you’re standing just outside of Strider's apartment door. This is the usual for you. You’re coming over for movie night with him and John. Everything is fine.   
  
Dave creaks open the door, this time, and grins when he sees you. His hair is silky smooth as always, and fluffed to perfection. He greets you with a smile that makes you forget where you are for a moment.   
  
“Hey, man!" Dave grins, and you forget where you are for yet another moment. You look away from his dimpled smile.   
  
"Something came up with John, so it’s just going to be the two of us tonight.” He says offhandedly.

You blink yourself out of your daze and look back at Strider. Oh. _Oh._   
  
“Thats cool.” You say.  
  
You don’t feel cool right now. You’re just so used to John being here for movie night you’re caught a little off guard, is all. You’re suddenly very aware of how you walk through the door, take off your shoes, and sit on the couch. Dave already has the snacks prepared and ready to go, which also changes the flow of the night. You proceed with almost caution. You didn’t realize John was so vital in this routine, but you figure it’s because he makes it feel a whole lot less intimate than it feels right now. With all three of you there, it’s just a bunch of guys hanging out for a movie night, but with strictly you and Dave, it feels more like a foreign attempt at a date. The thought of which absolutely does not leave butterflies in your stomach as you have to try way too hard to swallow your popcorn. You figure that both of you will mutually dance around the issue, assuming Dave is as aware of the “Wack vibes.” (as he would put it), as you are. It also doesn’t help that you haven’t spoken to him properly since what happened in the break room.  
  
You’re sat on the couch, with a space in between you and Dave where John usually sits. Neither of you are watching the movie currently playing, but you’re both staring at the screen, not daring to look anywhere else. Your silhouettes are lit up from the single light source of the TV. You sit in silence. Dave usually offers more commentary, but tonight it feels kind of forced. Curse John and his whole having other plans thing, because it’s completely entirely his fault that tonight feels so strange, and absolutely not because of anything between you and Dave. You aren’t sure if it’s just you who feels the thick tension, but you feel like Dave is acting off, too.   
  
You manage to get through two movies together without a hitch. Every so often Dave will ask you a pointless question, which you answer.  
  
“You cold over there?” He asks, without much of a warrant, you might add, considering you’re wearing his hoodie like always.   
  
“I’m fine, asshole. What’s got you all worried about me?” You shake your head to yourself. You’re acting like everything is normal, why isn’t he?You stare harder at the screen. You think a high-speed car chase is going on with the characters in the film.  
  
“Well,” Dave stretches his arms behind his back. His shirt rides up. Your eyes dart down and up and back again.   
  
  
“You were all cuddly on Monday, I wasn’t sure what changed.”   
  
  
You whip your head to look at him, bewildered. He’s not supposed to be talking about that. You were both supposed to forget it and pretend it never happened! You can feel red creep to your ears. He smirks, and raises a brow. What is he doing? What happened to mutually dancing around the issue?!  
  
“Shut the fuck up, I was not. And don’t give me that look!” You demand. He ignores you. Your toes curl and your chest rises and falls at a quicker pace.  
  
“I don’t know man, you were basically mewling beneath me.” He gives you one of his signature Strider Chuckles, which absolutely pisses you off. You want to punch him.  
  
“That is not what happened!” Your face is redder by the minute. You did not, and do not _mewl_.   
  
“Oh please,” he lilts. Movie be damned. You can’t focus at all anymore, and all he’s paying attention to is making you suffer. You thought he would just drop it, but you obviously don’t know Dave Strider very well if you where dumb enough to have thought that. Dave schooches a spot over to you. Fuck, you’re sweating. You swallow hard, looking directly at the screen and nowhere else.  
  
Dave leans his body right up against yours, and your heart is pounding in your ears. The asshole really has to go the extra mile to mortify you today, doesn’t he?   
  
“Stop it,” You warn. You thank every god you’ve ever heard of that your voice doesn’t crack. He doesn’t stop.   
  
“Well y’seemed to have forgotten about what happened, so I thought I’d be a gentleman and remind you!” His impression of a gentleman who is offering a reminder and nothing else is as terrible as every other impression he’s done, and it makes your blood boil that he’d try to pretend it’s not, even ironically.  
  
Dave gently - so fucking gently - grabs your hand from your lap. This time he’s running his thumb across your knuckles. You hate how it tugs at your heart. You hate how it makes you fucking swoon. He hums, and his other hand grazes gently up your back, and into your hair again. You’re stock still, like a deer in the headlights. You feel sick, and can vaguely hear your heart shattering into a million pieces and then some. He really did do this all for a cheap joke.   
  
You’re torn between giving into your desires, and shoving him off of you and giving him a piece of your mind. You don’t have time to decide before he gives your hair a gentle ruffle, and a pitiful noise escapes your lips. You can’t even help it. It’s pathetic. Tears prick your eyes, you’re going to vomit, surely.   
  
  
“There it is! Like a Goddamn kitten.”

“Is this how you get your rocks off? Humiliating your house guests?” You snap at him, pushing him away, and inwardly cursing yourself for missing the contact in an instant.  
  
“Damn, Kitten. Ice cold. You’re just as red, though.”   
  
“I am not! And I was not! Don’t fucking call me that!”  
  
“Dude, my migraine got a fucking migraine, you were glowing so bright.” He pokes your side and you swat him away immediately. He’s got an arm resting on the back of the couch, and his head resting on his fist.  
  
“Whats the big deal? Isn’t this like, a thing now?” He asks.   
  
You don’t know! You didn’t think this was going to be a thing, and you really aren’t equipped to handle how this makes you feel. You can’t tell if this is his usual taunting and he’s just a dumbass, or if he’s intentionally trying to make you feel like shit, but you’re pretty sure it’s the latter. You don’t answer him, and stare dead at the screen, without actually taking any of the movie in.   
  
  
  
A beat passes.  
  
  
A second beat.  
  
  
  
“Vantaaaas,” He whispers. You can suddenly feel his hot breath on your exposed skin, and it makes your heart beat tenfold. You thought you pushed him away, but he’s returned, leaning close to your neck. He’s back on you, like an awful parasite, or crippling addiction. You’re going to have to go to Striderholics Anonymous after this and it’s all his fault. Your friends will have to hold an intervention for you and reassure you that you’re stronger than this. Sollux will probably cry, even.  
  
Dave completely ignores the hassle he’s putting you and your friends through, (rude.) and takes it upon himself to rest his chin on your shoulder, exhaling as he does so, making you shudder at his will. You’re in an extremely compromised situation, and if he keeps this up you’re going to have an equally compromising position in your pants. You figure thats what he’s going for. You can feel Daves lips graze your skin as he forms your name. God, it’s tantalizing. There’s no other word to describe it. The way he whispers it makes a part of you - one that you didn’t know you had - heat up with devils flame. He knows it, too. Thats what’s so infuriating. At this point there is no way to convince him that you wanted that couch-thing to be platonic. You’re right in front of him, writhing back and forth from the contact, red as blood. He’s doing this to piss you off. He’s doing this to embarrass you, you know he is. It makes you angry, and honestly pretty hurt.   
  
It almost stings you, when he touches you. You want so much more, and it’s obvious. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction. You can’t.   
  
“Are you always this easy to fluster?” He still smells like vanilla and strawberries, but this time round it makes you feel violently ill. He pokes your side again, you flinch away, and grab his hand with enough force that he makes a weird noise in his throat. He looks surprised. Now that you’re actually turned to see him, you really want to smack him.  
  
“Don’t, Strider.”   
  
Your voice quavers, great. He picks up on it, and his smile returns in an instant. “Awe, babe, have I really gotten you all hot and bothered so easily? I knew you couldn’t resist the Strider Charm, but I’m impressed.” Daves tone drips with saccharine sarcasm.

Yep, thats it.   
  
Fuck him. You push him away (again), and stand up.   
  
“Oh, woah-“ he starts to say, but you don’t let him finish.   
  
“You’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever fucking met, Dave.” You stuff as much of your anger as you can into your words, which isn’t difficult. “What kind of sick fuckery is this? You don’t have to lead me on, I can take a hint. I get it! It was all for some fucking joke.” The tears are back, stinging with a vengeful force, but you focus more on rage than on pain.  
  
Dave looks more surprised at your outburst than anything, which pisses you off even more. At least he could act like he cares. But you’re also livid right now, so you’d be upset with him regardless of what he did.   
  
“So, hah!” you gesture madly, trying to divert the fact that you’re really close to choking a sob. “Real funny shit! I’m not a prop you get to play with whenever you want to have a laugh, you shitstain! You don’t fuck with me just to see what gets under my skin!”   
  
You’re definitely shouting as you slip on your shoes by the door. You kind of struggle to get them on all the way, but you don’t care. “God, Fuck you, Strider!”  
  
“Wait, shit, Karkat-“  
  
“Call John! Tell him everything, I don’t care. Call Terezi - Tell the whole fucking campus just how easy it is to get Karkat Vantas to turn into a fucking mess! I don’t give a shit, just fuck off!”   
  
You slam the door with as much force as you can manage, and storm down the hallway to the elevator. As the elevator doors close, you hear some shuffling, someone call your name, and the door shut again.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
You’re crying, with your ass sat on college campus sidewalks. You feel like shit, and your hands wont stop shaking. The only company you have is the flickering streetlamps, and occasional yelling from drunken college kids. It’s cold as shit, and you’ve taken Daves hoodie off in an act of useless rage, and it lays discarded at your side. It’d be more constructive to wear the damn thing, but you’re too angry for that right now.   
  
The bitter night air stings your chest as you breathe it in. It fits your mood quite aptly, you think. Tears are running down your gross face, and you’re extremely sniffly with both the crying and the cold.   
  
You hate Dave Strider. You hate him because if it weren’t for Dave Strider you wouldn’t be sitting like a loser on the sidewalk right now, for any student to walk past to see and pity. You hate it, but you also don’t want to go back to your room just yet. Having to stifle your sobs lest your fellow dormmates hear you doesn’t sound appealing right now. You’d prefer to be a snotty, gross mess outside in the dark.   
  
You really want to kick a lamppost or something. You stand up, and kick the nearest lamppost with as much force as you can muster.  
  
“Dammit!”   
  
That hurt. And you don’t feel any better. You sit back down, and tuck your knees to your chest.  
  
You can’t fucking believe him. You knew he was an asshole, but you didn’t think he was so fucking mean. You shouldn’t be surprised. This is what happens when you go from ‘friendly-coworkers’ to just ‘friends’. You should’ve seen this coming from a mile away, but you were too infatuated with Strider and his stupid, stupid face to look ahead of you. He played you well, you admit. He really had you thinking he genuinely liked having you around, but nope. Just a joke. Just a stupid joke, never to be taken seriously, apparently. It shouldn’t hurt your feelings this much. It does, though. It’s your fault for not expecting it, really. You still hate him.

You’ve been scrolling through your phone for the past few minutes, looking at social media posts you’ve seen ten times before. You keep refreshing the page, but no one is posting much at 1:00 AM. You also ignore the multiple missed calls and texts from Dave. You decide to block him. You know that you’ll probably unblock him later, to read his texts but never reply, but you’re still in the “Furious” stage right now, so you’ll let your future self deal with that. You really want to text one of your friends right now to talk, but that would require having friends that are  
  
 _A) Awake at this hour,_  
  
 _B) Willing to put up with your bullshit at this hour, and_  
  
 _C) You’re comfortable enough with to talk about how Dave was a total tease of a douchebag, and you totally fell for it because you have thing for blonds, and also blonds named Dave Strider specifically._  
  
None of your friends fall into any one of those categories. You also kind of wish that one of your friends would just materialize next to you to have one of those cinematic Late Night Deep Talks, but you highly doubt thats doing to happen. You should probably go back to your dorm before you catch a cold. Part of you wants Nepeta to show up, because you are sat not too far from the Drama building, but if she was somehow awake this late, she’d probably be busy anyways.   
  
Standing up with a sigh, you grab Daves hoodie from the ground. You want to leave it on the road for someone to run over a little bit, but then you’d be down an article of clothing to dramatically cry over, or leave at his front door just to be petty and make him feel bad. You ignore the part of you that wants to keep it in case you and Dave make up over this, because you’re still seething with anger. He used you for a laugh, and you feel like shit.  
  
You deserve better, even if you have to remind yourself that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, y'all for reading yet again! This is the first installment of the biweekly publishing! Depending on how this goes, Wednesday and Saturday will be when updates come out, so look forward to that. This chapter really went from 0-100 real damn fast, huh? Don't worry, it only downhill from here! ~Thonkus


	7. The Elusive Dave Strider In His Natural Habitat. (Ironically, of course)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose and Dave converse, Gamzee rats Karkat out, and Kanaya is yet again, Sick Of All This Bullshit.

Your name is Dave Strider.  
  
Your name is Dave Strider, and Karkat hasn’t shown up for work in a week.  
  


* * *

  
  
Your name is Dave Strider.  
  
Your name is Dave Strider, and your boss keeps staring at you, wordlessly, as you stock the racks of clothing.

* * *

Your name is Dave Strider.   
  
Your name is Dave Strider, and holy fuck, you feel guilty. Probably because you are guilty. So guilty Terezi wouldn’t even need to do one of her mock-trial bits to see it. She’d just smell it off of you. It’s been almost two full weeks since you fucked things up incredibly royally with Karkat, and your sister, Rose is tired of coming to your apartment to find you staring un-cooly at your phone, hoping he calls you back. Speaking of your sister Rose, she’s currently sat lounging on your couch, while you sit on the bar-stool located in your kitchenette. You’re secretly staring at your phone, hoping he calls you back, while her back is turned to you. You sigh. Rose groans.   
  
“Dave, I’m beginning to wonder if you enjoy feeling terrible about yourself.” Rose doesn’t bother to look up at you from her phone, but her tone tells you she’s thoroughly fed up with your bullshit by now.   
  
“Is that so?” You also don’t look up from your phone. You two, though unable to master twin-telepathy, know pretty well how to communicate without seeing one another. This comes in handy when your sister sends you a wall of text to decipher all about your latest fuck-up and how thats effecting your emotional state. You wish you could call it poor psychoanalysis, but she literally goes to school for this, so it’s relatively accurate.   
  
Rose nods. “Yes. Perhaps it has to do with your mental-health related imposer syndrome. I wonder if it’s a sort of subconscious choice to make you feel like you’ve suffered enough to deserve help.”  
  
You ignore her. “You’re not graduated yet, Lalonde, you can’t diagnose me with shit.”  
  
“Give it a few months.”  
  
“Will do.”  
  
As much as she annoys you with her nagging, you’re thankful you’re not sitting all by yourself. Then it would feel kind of pitiful, the way you’re pouting at your lack of notifications. This way it just feels sort of comically unhealthy. You’ve of course told Rose everything about what happened, too hastily to feel embarrassed that you told your sister you were high-key flirting with Karkat. Or trying to flirt, anyways. She thankfully didn’t mention it, but you wouldn’t be surprised if she had gossiped all about you to your other siblings, Dirk and Roxy, or to her not-girlfriend, Kanaya.   
  
You both inherited the denial-gene from your parents, so Rose is pointedly ignoring that her and Kanaya are pretty much dating. For heavens sake, once you found them both collapsed at the bottom of an empty school stairwell, lips locked. That was a weird conversation to have, and an even weirder introduction to meeting Kanaya. She had apologized several times for the awkward first impression, and you think she’s actually pretty cool.

She’s close friends with Karkat, though, so you haven’t had the balls to talk to her any. You don’t want to imagine how scary she is when she’s mad, but thats surely close in your future if you speak to her. She’d probably make a curse jar with your name on it. (Or sour jar, as Rose tells you they’re called.) Regardless, you don’t want to find out what kind of witchy shit Kanaya works with when you’re at the receiving end. Come to think of it, you don’t doubt that Rose would happily help her curse you if it meant she got to spend time with Kanaya. You really shouldn’t annoy her as much as you do, come to think of it.  
  
“Did you hear about the celebratory summer function being hosted at the end of this month?” Rose asks you, nonchalantly. You raise your brows over your sunglasses. You should be suspicious of her, since she normally doesn’t care about parties, but you’re interested in hearing about this.  
  
“No, what’s going on?”  
  
“I believe a handful of upperclassmen are hosting it. I heard through the grapevine. It sounds like it’s going to be fun.”   
  
“Does the grapevines name rhyme with _‘Shanaya_ ’?”  
  
Rose doesn’t answer your question directly (when does she ever?) but offers a smug smile, which is all the answer you need.   
  
If Kanaya knows about it, Karkat probably does too. If you run into him, it’ll be an absolute bloodbath. By the way he’s ignoring your texts and calls, he’s probably still just as angry. However, you want to see him, and you also want a chance to explain yourself and say sorry in person. You can ‘accidentally’ bump into him at the party, and cooly apologize. You’re positive it’s the only reason your sister mentioned such an event, since she herself doesn’t attend many parties. You’re thankful for that, but you also really don’t want to hurt Karkat again.   
  
You know you’d stroll up and act like it’s no big deal, and like you haven’t been thinking about him every day since then, but it is a big deal, and you have been thinking about him. Karkat won your stupid heart over the second you met him and he called you a douchebag for wearing shades indoors. You’ve accidentally become un-ironically smitten with his grouchy ass. Even his colorful insults are endearing to you, now. If Karkat is ignoring you, it’s probably because he’s hurt from what you did. Hell, you saw his face when he stormed out. He looked like he was damn near tears, and it was entirely your fault.  
  
Maybe it’s better you leave him alone.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Your name is Karkat Vantas.  
  
Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you’re really fucking tired of being alone. You’ve been cooped up in your dorm room for days, or maybe weeks, because you haven’t spared a glance to your calendar. Gamzee was nice enough to make sure your shifts didn’t align with Dave’s at all, after you called him in a fit of tears the day before work. That made your job exponentially more boring, but exponentially less stressful. You have Dave Strider still blocked, but only because Gamzee would be really disappointed if he found out you were ‘ _Subjecting yourself to all those bad motherfuckin’ vibes, Karbro.’_  
  
In fact, Gamzee sounded like he wanted to strangle Dave when you called him, and when you came in for your re-scheduled shift, he pulled you into another tight hug that felt a little too murderous for normal. Gamzee is actually the only one of your friends who you told about what happened, but based on the calls and texts you’ve gotten, he let the others know that you’re not doing very well right now.  
  
You’re not doing very well at all, actually. You’re sitting, at the foot of your bed, crying over a cliche sad movie that Netflix had recommended. The characters were forgettable, and the film was generally bad, but your eyes are constantly 0.2 seconds away from rivaling Niagara Falls nowadays anyways. You’ve barreled through multiple packs of instant noodles, and several tissue boxes. You should go to the store to get more, but you’ve also not showered in days. You’ve been too busy moping, and ignoring your phone. 

You’ve moved past the initial intense hatred for Strider, and now you’re just plain sad. His hoodie is shoved at the bottom of your laundry hamper so you don’t have to look at it, but also don’t have to discard it. Same goes for poor Cynthia. You’ve mentally decided that her and Betty White are broken up now, which stupidly make you feel slightly better. The only communication you’ve had with your friends aside from Gamzee has been heart-ing the Cat GIFS that Nepeta sends you as encouragement to not shrivel up and die.   
  
A knock rings out from your door.   
  
Ah, that. You’ve also gotten periodic knocking from who you assume are your close friends. You’ve ignored it every time, pretending you’re not home, which is a preposterous thing to pretend because you’ve been skipping classes all this time. You’ll email the professors for make-up work later, probably. As tired, and frankly, bored you are of sitting alone in your room, you never answer the knocking. They usually give up after a minute or so. This knock, persists however. You hear a voice call through the door.  
  
“Karkat, I know you’re in there. May I come in?”   
  
You recognize the voice as Kanaya. Although she can’t see you, you hastily pull your blanket off of your bed, and wrap yourself underneath to hide. No one thus far has been determined enough to actually say anything to you while you’re in here, which you guess is fair enough. Kanaya is probably as tired of this as you are, because she speaks up again.   
  
“Karkat, Gamzee told me you’re not scheduled be at work today.”  
  
Ah, shit. Gamzee only rats you out when he really thinks you need the help. You always thank him later but first you’re always really pissed. The pattern proves true today. Fuck Gamzee, you think.  
  
“I have actual food with me.” Kanaya practically sings to you.   
  
Grr. She knows you can’t resist her cooking. Shit. You sit for another moment, hoping she’ll give up and leave you alone.   
  
You don’t hear footsteps walk away. You groan from your spot.   
  
“Fuck - Yeah, yeah I’m coming!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I am lol. Writing as the Strilondes is definitely considerably more fun than it should be, so we'll definitely be seeing some more of them as we go! Don't worry though, Karkat still has his pile of shit so we'll be seeing much of that bastard as well. Regards! ~ Thonkus


	8. Being Best Friends With A Witch Has It's Perks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kanaya is utterly floored by Karkat's bullshit, and does her best to help. Tarot cards are involved.

Your name is Karkat Vantas.  
  
Your name is Karkat Vantas and Kanaya looks very worried.  
  
“Karkat, how long has it been since you’ve left your room?”Kanaya takes your hand up in hers, looking directly into your eyes with a frown. Her brow is creased with worry. You shake your hand out from hers, and wipe your tear-stained eyes, breaking eye contact.  
  
“I had work last Friday.”  
  
  
“Karkat, it’s-“ Kanaya looks over to the calendar on your wall, which you’ve not been marking off. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Karkat, it’s Wednesday.”

  
“Yeah, so?” your shoulder slouch further. You’re poking an angry hornets nest, but that hasn’t stopped you before. Kanaya sighs. She looks upset, and that sends a pang of guilt down you. You should have answered some of those texts, in hindsight. You know she worries.  
  
Having company in your room makes you acutely aware of how messy you’ve let it get. Plastic plates and bowls litter your hardwood, along with dirty clothes from work. You try to subtly fix your hair, which is surely sticking out awkwardly. Kanaya isn’t having any of it.  
  
“Gamzee wont tell any of us what happened, we’re just concerned.”  
  
“Yeah, well, I’m fine!” You bite. You’re committed to your moodiness now, for some reason. You always commit to your attitude even when it’s stupid. Kanaya gives you a deadpan look.  
  
“Alright!” You throw your arms up. “Things are terrible right now, whatever!”  
  
Kanaya sets her very large bag on your floor. “Listen, why don’t you get a shower and then we can talk about it? I brought my chicken and rice recipe you like.”  
  
She’s not subtle in her ways, she’s trying to coax you back on your feet and out of your rut. Otherwise she probably wouldn’t be here right now, let alone with food. You don’t really want to talk about it, though. But you know she’ll weasel it out of you eventually, and it’s better it happen alone in your dorm than out with your other friends. You nod, wiping your gross, tired face. Kanaya clasps her hands together, pleased.  
  
“Wonderful! I’ll get things sorted here, then.” Kanaya starts pulling Tupperware containers out of her bag, and you assume thats your cue to get yourself into the nearest shower and wash off.  
  
It doesn’t take long to grab fresh laundry and your caddy of shower things. It’s a short walk to the thankfully empty dorm shower block. You assume because of her classes, (That she _has_ been attending) Kanaya's stopped by later in the day. This means you don’t have to deal with your dormmates, and are free to take as long as you want under the hot water. You try not to keep Kanaya waiting too long, but you do let yourself rest your forehead against the shower wall in suffering for a little bit. Even though you look considerably less disgusting once you’ve showered, your eye bags are still prominent from your sleepless nights.  
  
When you return to your dorm with fresh clothes and still-wet hair, Kanaya is seated on the now semi-clean floor atop the cushions you guys normally use as makeshift chairs. She also has procured plates and silverware from somewhere in her massive bag, with warm food atop. You let yourself to the ground, sighing as you go.  
  
“Thanks, Kan.” you bring a bite to your mouth, and nearly moan at the taste of something that isn’t noodles. Kanaya is a god in the kitchen, and her cooking is nothing short of divine. Her lips crack into a smile when she sees you eat.  
  
“It’s my pleasure, Karkat. What’s been going on?”  
  
You snicker through your mouthful of food. She sounds like your old school councilor, but a lot more helpful.

  
“It’s just shit with Strider. I’m sure Rose has told you all about it.”

“She’s offered an explanation, but I wanted to ask you directly instead.”

  
You nod, unsurprised. Your foot taps nervously, you still cant meet her eyes. Of all your friends, you trust Kanaya the most with this kind of thing, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. You clear your throat. God, just thinking about it again makes your face burn. You clear your throat a second time.  
  
“Well, you weren’t really wrong about the cuddling shit, I guess.”  
  
Kanaya’s brows shoot up, and she reaches for her own small bite of food, inciting you to go on. You cant place the look on her face.  
  
“Just once, though!” You add, too quickly. “It just sort of happened on the break room couch, thats all.” you shove another bite of food in your mouth to save you from having to speak.  
  
“And now you’re… upset?”  
  
“Ugh, no. So that- Y’know that- that happened, and then on movie night he wouldn’t stop giving me a hard time about it, or whatever.”  
  
You know you’re downplaying the situation, but you shrug your shoulders anyways. Kanaya doesn’t say anything yet. Ugh.  
  
“So - John wasn’t there, right? So he was doing fuck all by himself, I don’t know. Without John things were fucked in the first place because we have a system, you know?”  
  
She nods, but lets you continue.  
  
“So John’s gone, and Strider and I aren’t really talking, whatever - But then he wont shut up about what happened on the couch, and he won’t stop _fucking laughing_ about it, which is SO fucked up because like, wow I knew you didn’t like me like that, but you didn’t have to make fun of me for it! I thought we were just going to not talk about it, which is what I would have liked, but no, he has to open his big stupid fucking mouth and make me into a fucking joke!” Your throat is getting tight, and your face is hot with rekindled anger.  
  
“And so he’s being a fucking dick about it and I’m just trying to watch the movie, but he keeps going on and on - and I’m getting really pissed at him, right?” Shit, you’re getting choked up at this point. You hate this.  
  
“Right.” She nods again, reaching to squeeze your hand in support.  
  
“And THEN he has the fucking balls - the fucking audacity, Kanaya, to go _‘yo babe I didn’t think it was so easy to get you all hot and bothered’_ or something fucking ridiculous!” Kanaya looks surprised. You shove your face in your hands to hide your brimming tears. You’re being too sensitive about it. You tack on an obviously fake laugh so she doesn’t notice you’re crying.  
  
“Yeah, so-“ You sniff. “So fuckass does that shit which is fucking stupid and horrible and made me feel kind of like shit because, wow of course it did, I just came here to watch some fucking action movies but this shit-for-brains asswipe decided I was prime candidate for humiliation!” You fling your arms up again in anger. Kanaya looks alarmed at your recounting.  
  
“So, yeah. TL;DR - Strider fucking sucks and I hate him.”  
  
Kanaya nods her head slowly, for the third time in a row. She does that a lot when you rant. It’s only when take another bite and cross your arms that she speaks up again.  
  
“So, thats what this is all about?” Her hands don’t leave yours.  
  
It’s your turn to nod. She hums in sympathy.  
  
“Have you spoken to him since?”  
  
“No. I blocked him like right after it happened.”  
  
“What about in your mutual lecture?”  
  
“Er-“ you clear your throat again. “Yeah, I’ve been skipping most of my classes.”  
  
Kanaya looks unsurprised, but rubs circles into her temples with her free hand.  
  
“Karkat, you know I love you.”  
  
“I love you too.”  
  
“And I’m always going to support you however I can,”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“…But, and as gently as I can say this -you need to stop dragging your feet.”  
  
You groan, wiping the excess tears from your face, now that you’ve stopped crying. Of course if Kanaya is coming by your room at a time like this its to get you to stop doing whatever it is that you’re doing, you know that. You still don’t want to talk to him, though. She pulls back from you  
  
“Your grades are going to suffer, and avoiding anything clearly isn’t helping you feel any better either” Her hands form gentle fists in her lap, and she’s sat perfectly straight. Her lips fall in a tight, worried line. It’s practically summer break, so not much of your schooling matters right now, but Kanaya is still stern.  
  
“I’m already suffering, Kan.”  
  
“Karkat. You need to start going back to your classes. At least contact your professors and make up for your attendance.” Her tone is gentle, but reeks of finality. You hate it when she’s right, which is often.  
  
“Fine!” You groan. “But only the ones he’s not in.”  
  
Kanaya smiles, which makes you feel uneasy. You thought she’d be annoyed at your dumbass compromise.  
  
“Perfect! More incentive to talk it out with him.”  
  
“I’m not talking to that fuckass.”  
  
“You’ll have to eventually if you want to graduate, then.” She pulls her drink up to her lips, taking a delicate sip.  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
Kanaya seems pleased, so you know she’s accomplished what she wanted. Or at the very least, gotten her point across. Even if you wont admit it, you know you have to talk to him eventually. Preferably sooner, where your grades are concerned.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
You and Kanaya talk and hang out for a little while longer. You’ve missed company, and you’re in better spirits to socialize after your embarrassing sob-fest.  
  
“Have you heard news of the party at the end of this month?” Kanaya asks, not looking up from her phone.  
  
You have not. You look up from digging through her bag, trying to find her nail polish. (Your nails have become criminally boring without Kanaya over so often, and that needs to be fixed ASAP.)  
  
“No?” This is the second time Kanaya has brought up a social gathering to you like this. Your eyes narrow in suspicion.  
  
“I hear someone is hosting a large party to commemorate summer break starting.”  
  
Oh right, summer break. You forgot that existed outside of your shitty excuses for skipping class. You were planning on staying here anyways, since you have a tradition of spending summer with Gamzee and his family. You just didn’t realize it really was so soon.  
  
“I myself am attending, along with our other friends, I believe. Would you like to come…?” Kanaya trails off, looking at you expectantly.  
  
You’re not surprised at her wanting to go. Though Kanaya seems prim and proper, she’s more than capable of letting loose and partying hard. Or, at least letting looser. You aren’t really opposed to the idea of going yourself, but it’s also not that appealing. It’d be a real coming of age movie moment for sure, appearing out of self isolation to look super hot and get super drunk, but you’re also just some guy who wears black skinny jeans that no one cares about. You’re not against branching out fashion-wise, but that’s never really been your thing, so you couldn’t have the Cinderella Story moment of your dreams either. On the other hand, Kanaya is obviously mentioning this hoping you’ll go, and you feel like you kind of owe it to her after she came to your dorm to do all this for you. You can at least give it a chance, you figure.  
  
“Yeah, Maybe. I’l see.”  
  
Thats enough for Kanaya, it seems, because she gives you a wide grin, and goes back to tapping away at her screen. You root around in her purse some more, before your hand runs into something hard and square. Huh? You draw it out of her handbag, to inspect further.  
  
It’s a rectangular box, decently sized, with fancy looking cards printed on the front.  
  
“Whats this?” You shake the box gently, and it sounds like there’s cards inside of it, too.  
  
“Hm? Oh, thats my Tarot deck.” Kanaya only has to spare a single glance at your hands to understand what you’re talking about, before she’s back to her phone again. You know she is into witchcraft and stuff, but you aren’t entirely sure what a Tarot Deck is for.  
  
“Oh, neat.” You stare at the box more. It’s sturdy, black, and modern. Kanaya looks back at you, and you assume she takes note of your interest, considering what she asks next.  
  
“Would you like a reading?” She’s got her hand extended for the deck before you even answer.  
  
“What is this, some fortune telling shit?”  
  
“Not quite, no.” she chuckles, taking the cards from you. “Tarot Cards have lots of uses. Meditation, Spirituality, or just learning more about yourself and your intuition. By learning how your mind reacts and interprets cards, you can learn a lot about yourself and how to best act in a situation. Or, they can just offer a feeling of ease. ” She shuffles the cards as she speaks. She does one of those fancy shuffling maneuvers that you’ve never been able to understand yourself.  
  
So thats what it’s for. Kanaya spreads some cards out in her hand to show you. They’re larger than a normal deck of playing cards, both in amount and size. They’re black, with sleek, colorful patterns on the backs. Kanaya flips one card over for example. It’s got a religious looking lady on it, with “The High Priestess” printed underneath her. It’s flipped upside down.  
  
“Each card represents something, and can be either the Major Arcana, or one of the Four Suits. Wands, Pentacles, Swords, or Cups. Each card means something different depending on wether it’s right side up, or reversed.”  
  
You can understand that easily enough. Major Arcana, Four suits.  
  
“There are a lot of different Tarot spreads one can do. Some involve the future, yes. But there are also readings for love, career, and just general spreads.”  
  
“That sounds cool,” you mutter, but you’re more focused staring intently at the cards, admiring the designs. You’re still paying attention to her words, though.  
  
“What does The High Priestess mean?”  
  
Kanaya looks down at the card in her hand. “Well, it’s not a part of an intentional spread, so for you, it means very little. But this card represents intuition, mystery, and the inner mind. It can mean a lot of different things if you find her in a Tarot spread. Even more so if she’s reversed like this,” she explains cooly.  
  
You’re intrigued now. Kanaya gets cards set up for a generic reading. It seems like she’s been doing this for a while because her hands move expertly as she lays the cards out in a fan on your floor.  
  
“I’m going to ask you to pick some cards, Karkat. Just go wherever feels right,” she instructs.  
  
You glance over the fan of cards. They all look identical no matter which side is up, so there’s no point in trying to find some error in the pattern. You end up picking a card near the far left of the fan. Kanaya slides it out from the rest, but keeps it face down.  
  
“Perfect. This card, in simplicity, will represent a situation in your life, past, present or future. Maybe a period of your life, or a specific event. Another one, if you please.”  
  
Your hand goes to tap a card in the center again before you can think about it. You figure you shouldn’t second-guess too much. Kanaya slides it out, setting it face down next to your ‘Situation’ card.  
  
“This card represents your focus. Where your focus is, was, or is needed for the previous card. One last card, please.”  
  
You do that dumb helicopter thing with your finger as you hover over the cards. You don’t really see how this part can effect your reading too much, so you grab one closer to the center, which has itself laid a little crooked. Kanaya smiles, and slides the final card out, before swiftly collecting all the unused cards in the deck back into a neat pile.  
  
“This final card represents the outcome.”  
  
“How do I know what they all apply to?”  
  
“You get to decide that, Karkat. These cards aren’t magic, per se, but they are a helpful tool if you’re interested in learning some things.”  
  
You don’t really know what she means, but it sounded cool at least. You turn your focus back to your cards. You don’t now if you’re supposed to think about something particular for this, but Kanaya didn’t tell you to, so you think you’re fine.

Her neatly manicured hand reaches for the first card - the one representing a situation. She flips it over, and blinks in surprise.

  
  
“The Tower.”  
  
“What’s that one mean?”

“Well, the tower is often representative of disaster. Crisis. A turbulent or stressful situation. It could represent a time in your life when things are at rock bottom, perhaps.”  
  
You snort. “That sounds like most of my life, Kanaya.”  
  
She laughs politely, and continues to the next card. The one representing your focus.  
  
“Three Of Pentacles.” She hums. “Three Of Pentacles can represent teamwork, or collaboration. Success that comes from working with another person. Perhaps a time in your life where you need to reach out, and work as a team.”  
  
You wonder if she said that to target you, or if it’s something in your mind that associated that with Strider subconsciously. Kanaya’s got you all up in your head. You feel your heart rate pick up at the thought of him again. She reaches for the last card. Her brows are knit together, like she’s just as curious as you are. She flips it with a flourish.  
  
“Knight Of Swords. Reversed.”  
  
You meet her gaze, eagerly.  
  
“Maybe the outcome of this…situation. Results in a lot of impulsivity. The Knight Of Swords, when reversed, represents a bursting energy, and lots of it. Chaos, impatience, and recklessness.”  
  
You frown. Maybe this is just a bunch of nonsense. You can’t think of anything in your life that could relate to that card. The first two, sure. But this one has you thrown for a loop. You feel a little bit of disappointment sink through you.  
  
“Remember, this could be the outcome of a situation that hasn’t finished its course. Or, it could be a load of theatrical mumbo-jumbo. It’s your spread. You get to choose that.” Kanaya sweeps the cards up, and places them back in the deck. She smiles, knowingly.

* * *

You bid your farewells to Kanaya, and thank her again for coming over. Although you don’t understand shit about Tarot, it was an interesting experience that has your brain buzzing with all things Strider. You can’t imagine what else those would represent, but you’re still not sure what that last card meant. You’re not exactly a superstitious person, but you can’t stop thinking about it. Why was the last card so weird? What the fuck was the teamwork thing implying? You toss your clothes into your hamper from across the room, and slip into pajamas - which for you, is just stripping down to your boxers. You’re too tired to think about any more Tarot cards.  
  
It’s dark, and the only light you have emits from your lamp, sat on your bedside table. It’s eerily quiet, save for chirping crickets and bugs outside your window.

You pad across the room to grab your forgotten phone from your dresser, but on your way step on something thin and papery.

Oh. One of the cards must’ve fallen out from Kanaya’s deck. You lean down and pick it up. You can just barely see the card in the warm lamplight.  
  
It depicts two skeletons, embracing. It’s upright.  
  
“The Lovers,” Is printed in curly font on the bottom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Hello! Thank you once more for reading this chapter of You Got Cool! We're getting into some of my favorite parts here now. Forgive me, I've never done a tarot spread myself (Decks are expensive and I am Broke), so I hope it was accurate enough for a reading experience! And if those cards are any indication, Karkat, you've got a big storm comin'! ~ Thonkus


	9. Rose Lalonde Is Definitely Reading Your Mind Right Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Karkat has terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad dreams. Rose is an opportunist.

_Strider is looming over top of you, with his hands pinning down yours. His breath is hot on your bare neck, and the skin on skin contact is making your entire body heat up._   
  
_His lips press to you jaw, then to your neck, and then your collar bone. You suppress a whine, but not well._   
  
_His sunglasses are off, and you can see every subtle way he takes you in, practically peeling you undone with his crimson eyes. You shut your eyes as his lips travel lower._   
  


* * *

  
Your name is Karkat Vantas.  
  
Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you’re crying in the communal showers at midnight, banging your head against the cool tile. Fuck Dave Strider, and his weird way of weaseling himself in your dreams. The water pelting you is icy cold, but every part of you is still warm. You want to die right now. Just have a fully fatal heart attack in the dorm showers. Someone will find your body in the morning, and you’ll die again of shame from being found dead naked. No one will come to your funeral.  
  
Wet hair plasters to your face. You washed it twenty minutes ago, now you’re just standing under the water, praying you can suddenly rinse from your mind every thought of Dave. You’ve been praying to a god you don’t believe in for almost an hour though, and you still have those thoughts. It feels like there are eyes all around you, watching and sneering. Knowing exactly what you’re thinking. You shudder, and flush red with embarrassment, even though you’re alone.  
  
You make quick work shutting the water off, and getting the hell out of the bathroom, all while your stomach churns itself inside out and back again.  
  
Kanaya’s forgotten card is placed atop your dresser. It mocks you while you root through drawers to find fresh pants. You flip it over so the skeletons stop looking at you. You need to get some fresh air.   
  
After shimmying yourself into your jeans, you eye your hamper. You know that damn hoodie is in there somewhere. You glare harder at the basket, failing terribly at a staring contest with it. It needs to stop giving you that look, you’re not even doing anything! You tell your hamper to fuck off.

* * *

  
  
  
You swing the dorm doors open, donning Striders red hoodie. It’s a little dirty, since it’s been in your hamper for over two weeks, but you don’t care about that right now. You’re having a quarterlife crisis and it’s all his fault. The streetlights lead you loosely down a path, and your feet fall like stone on the pavement.   
  
This isn’t good, you think to yourself. You need to stop thinking about him, and his gorgeous fucking eyes, or his swoopy hair, or his fucking dimples, or-  
  
Okay, that’s not working. You try thinking of something else. It doesn’t work all that well. All you can think of is Dave, and more specifically, Dave all over you. You hate yourself for it, because thats what made you so angry in the first place, and now your brain is doing a complete 180, and saying “Oh, hey we want this now!”  
  
Well, its not that you didn’t want it in the first place. It’s that he only wanted it to make fun of you, which made you feel like shit. You shouldn’t have such a hard time swearing off of Strider, since he was being a massive asshole about it, but here you are, breaking into a jog at 12:00 AM because you can’t stop thinking about what his lips would feel like on yours, or elsewhere. You still hate that you’re even entertaining the thought of that, after what he did, though. Your fists clench and unclench in a shitty attempt to try to calm down in anyway you can. You resort to chewing on the inside of your cheek.  
  
You wonder what would’ve happened if you hadn’t walked away that night. Would he have kept going until he decided he was done toying with you for his own amusement? Would you two watch the movie in silence? Would you pretend it never happened? None of it matters, you guess, because you did walk away. And you’re not upset that you did. He was being a dick, you know that. You deserve to not be used. You don’t know why it’s so hard to remember that you don’t deserve to be used. 

  
You wonder why he didn’t say anything on the break room couch. If he had wanted to use you for a laugh, wouldn’t it have been easier just to do it then? Why did he go the extra step to get your hopes up?   
  
You wonder if he’s thinking of you as much as you are of him. He’s probably not, and you know that, but your brain can’t help it. You know he’s probably not shedding any tears over you, or staring blankly at his couch, hoping he’ll blink, and you’ll suddenly materialize there with him, and everything is okay. You know deep down that he probably couldn’t care less at your absence in his life. You were a plaything, and he’ll find some new toy eventually.

  
You don’t understand. You don’t understand a lot, actually, and it’s really getting annoying. You figure that you’d understand if you just talked to him, but after tonight especially, you don’t think you can handle that. Maybe some things just don’t get closure.   
  
You think back to your work shenanigans. He didn’t act like a selfish, asshole of a player then. What changed? He’s always seemed like a great guy, although a little annoying at times. He’s never portrayed himself like someone who would genuinely do something so shitty. You miss when you were just fucking around with whatever interesting thing you two could find in the donation bins. You don’t really know what happened to make that go away.   
  
Well, you do know what happened. You got angry, and hurt, and scared. So you ran. You ran and you left, and you’re not upset that you did, but you’re upset that you had to. You wish you could just go back in time to before all that, but wishing is stupid - it doesn’t get you anywhere. And Time Travel unfortunately doesn’t exist right now.  
  
You feel torn. You feel like you’re so close to accepting that things just get fucked up, and that people just suck, but a part of you (that is much louder) is fucking yearning for Strider. You tell that part of your brain to shut up.   
  
That doesn’t work either. You can’t smell him on the hoodie anymore. You break into a jog.

  
You wonder if Gamzee is still proud of you. Why was he proud of you? You’re a fucking coward. You’re literally and metaphorically running away from your problems. You really want to hug him right now. You really want someone to tell you everything is going to be okay, and that you’re doing your best.   
  
But you’re not doing your best, are you? You’re out roaming the streets instead of doing anything constructive. You could be doing the make-up work you graciously received from your professors yesterday, or you could actually do your fucking laundry for once. You could be doing so much right now, but all you’re doing is thinking about Dave Strider. You hate tonight. You’re going to puke.

“Well, I recommend you don’t do that.”   
  
“Holy shit!” You trip over your own feet, tumbling yourself down to the concrete sidewalk. “Ow, Fuck!” You hiss. Were you saying all that out loud?  
  
A figure walks over to you, and reaches a powerful, yet elegant hand out. You look up at them, and a sleek blonde with dark lipstick helps you up.

“Are you alright? You took quite a fall.”  
  
“You’re Rose Lalonde.” You state, dumbly.  
  
“And you’re Karkat Vantas.” 

Once you’re on your feet, you get a better look at Rose. You’ve met her a couple of times, mostly in passing. Though, you only know her as Dave's sister, and Kanaya’s girlfriend. She offers you a delicate smile.  
  
“Might I ask what you’re doing out so late?”   
  
You look her up and down, trying to intimidate her as much as she knows she intimidates you. She doesn’t flinch.   
  
“I could ask you the same thing.” Judging by her fading lipstick and the fact that she came from the direction of a familiar dorm building, you assume she was with Kanaya.  
  
“You could, yes, but I’m far more interested in what you have to say. Also, I asked first.”   
  
You and Rose stand rivaling one another on the sidewalk. You’re grateful that you got a shower before you came out, so you’re not running into her a complete gross, sweaty mess.  
  
“Your brother is a fuckass.” You inform her. She doesn’t look offended.   
  
“I’ve lived with him for nearly all my life, I’m well aware,” Rose chuckles. “I’m actually here to see how you were doing. Kanaya and I haven’t had the chance to discuss, and I wanted to know.”  
  
You roll your eyes. You hold back a smart comment about how yes, you can imagine it’s difficult to talk when you’re connected at the lips. You don’t want to piss Rose off, especially since Kanaya is so smitten with her, so you don’t say that.  
  
“I’m doing great, thanks.” You huff, instead. You try not to think about how Dave told her what happened, or what that conversation went like at your expense.   
  
“You’re wearing one of his hoodies,” Rose comments. She doesn’t shiver an ounce at the cold night air, which impresses you, since she’s wearing a shortsleeved blouse.   
  
“It’s all I had clean,” you lie. Rose looks like she’s gotten the answer she wanted out of you, and you force yourself not to fidget. You’re just talking, after all, no matter how much it feels like you’re being interrogated.  
  
Rose doesn’t break eye contact, and you almost forget to blink.   
  
Her eyes gleam with something devilish.   
  
“You know, Kanaya was telling me something very peculiar,” Rose recounts, diverting the topic. “She was just telling me that she’s lost one of the cards in her Tarot deck. We do readings together often, you know.”  
  
A breeze of cold air glides past you two, but thats not why you shudder. You fail to swallow your nerves.   
  
“What card was it?” You know exactly which card it was.  
  
Rose smiles at you, borderline inspecting your every move.   
  
She tilts her head, curiously. “The Lovers,” she states.   
  
You don’t know what she’s playing at, but you know you have to play along. She’s got you cornered, despite the open air. You’re almost certain that she could convince you this was an accidental friendly chat, but she doesn’t. She wants you to know that she’s got ulterior motives, that this may have even all been planned. You can draw bitter comparisons to her brother, in that regard.  
  
Rose draws a finger up to her chin, in subtle, yet melodramatic thought. Her eyes flutter closed. “A card can represent a lot of things, but I think what matters most is what the receiver thinks of them. If I draw, say, an Ace Of Swords, reversed - it might not matter what it represents. It might not matter that it represents partial judgement, and bias. What matters, is that when I see the Ace Of Swords…”   
  
She opens her eyes, and with a calculated gaze, she stares to directly into your soul.  
  
“I think of my grandmother. And I give her a call, because I miss her. That’s what matters. Meanings can be damned if they don’t mean anything to you. Perhaps thats the case with your card of The Lovers.”  
  
She clasps her hands together, just like Kanaya, and takes in a refreshing breath.   
  
“But thats just some food for thought. I really ought to get on my way now, Karkat. I apologize for taking up your night. Have a safe walk!”  
  
Rose bids you farewell, and her high-heeled shoes click past you, down the pavement.  
  
You stand there with your jaw on the floor for a few beats, watching her slip out of sight. You’d swear you’re dreaming, still, if the cold air didn’t sting. Your legs move before your mind can play the conversation back, and you’re suddenly sprinting to your dorm.  
  
What the fuck just happened?  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Your name is Rose Lalonde.  
  
Your name is Rose Lalonde, and you just blew this kids fucking mind.   
  
You try not to look too pleased with yourself, you really do try. You’ve just never been very good at it, is all. You fight back a shiver in the night. You’d normally think ahead, and bring a light cardigan with you, had you known you’d be out so late. However you didn’t plan on finding yourself roaming the streets, far past midnight. It just kind of happened like that.

After your impromptu meeting with Kanaya, it also just so happened that fate was on your side, and Karkat Vantas was jogging across the street from you, wearing your brothers hoodie. You’ve done your fair share of meddling, and you had Kanaya’s blessing, so there was nothing more to it, really.  
  
Kanaya had already known her missing card was at Karkat’s - thats the last place she removed her deck at. A quick sift through them and you two knew that it was The Lovers. All it took from there was deductive reasoning, foresight, and a little bit of luck to complete your thorough meddling. Although, when it involves Dave and Karkat, it really doesn’t make the work too difficult. Your brother is an open book, and can barely hide anything from you. Karkat is the same, but with Kanaya, who happens to be your sort-of-girlfriend who loves to meddle as much as you do.   
  
Your phone chimes out, and you recognize the custom text tone. You fish your device out from your purse, and tap a response to Kanaya, who was cheekily thanking you for the fun night. You update her on the situations new development, and she’s just as pleased as you are. You admit to her that you may have overdone it with the theatrics, but didn’t compromise the situation. She admits to you that she doesn’t mind at all, and it’s actually quite charming when you overdo it.   
  
You’d say you’re not usually one to invade on other peoples private lives, but you’re absolutely one to do just that. Especially if that means you get to spend more time with Kanaya, and even more time after the initial time, except you both swear through fits of giggles that you’re going to focus strictly on the meddling. Also especially if it means you wont have to put up with your brothers moodiness for much longer. You don’t meddle without cause, after all.   
  
You’re thoroughly tired of your brother, and you know Kanaya is thoroughly tired of Karkat. You’re relieved the both of you wont have to deal with their dancing around one another after this, but you’re more relieved that you get to do Kanaya a sort of favor. You’ve managed to expertly stack the tiles in your favor, and Kanaya finds that especially attractive, so you’re doubly pleased with yourself.  
  
In fact, you’re very, _very_ pleased with yourself, and you don’t try to hide it at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I'm terribly sorry I didn't update this yesterday, aligning with my schedule. I have literally no excuse except I Just Straight Up Fucking Forgot. I hope y'all weren't waiting in suspense for too long! Regardless, thank you all for reading this chapter, and especially reading thus far! I appreciate it more than you know! ~ Thonkus


	10. How To Kick Your Crushes Ass: A Two Part Story Written By A Drunken Mess.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Karkat is dragged to a shitty college frat party, gets horrifically drunk, and decides to kick Strider's stupid ass.

Your name is Karkat Vantas.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and as always, Terezi is being an annoying piece of shit.

“For fucks sake, Karkles! It’s going to be fun!”  
  
“I highly doubt that, Terezi!”

She’s presently trying to drag your ass out of your dorm room, and into a strangers house for a _“raging rainbow rumpus party”_. (Her words, not yours.)  
  
You, however, are not going. You can already tell from the way Kanaya has been looking at you at lunch lately, combined with your late-night meeting with Rose last week, that Dave Strider is going to be there. And you’ve successfully sworn off of him for life. Yeah, sure, you owe it to Kanaya to go, but come on! Strider is like a cold sore you’ve finally gotten rid of after ages. You’ve even gotten back on your feet in some of your classes, though you’ve had to find seats far, far away from him and John in your film lectures. You’ve actually managed to get a shower four consecutive days this week, too. You’re not letting anything get in the way of your momentum.

“Karkat!” She groans, hitting her head back against your wall. She’s currently sat on your dresser, and she’s been snapping and gesturing with Cynthia for emphasis as she talks.  
  
“You’re going to have a great time! We’ll get drunk,” _snap!_ “And we’ll dance,” _snap!_ “And you’re coming with us!” _snapsnapsnap!_  
  
You walk over to her, and clamp Cynthias mouth shut with your hand. You wish you could do the same to Terezi. You glare at the dino toy, then back up to her. They both share the same visage -Empty, yet somehow knowing eyes, and a sharp toothed grin. She’s just waiting for you to give in, but it’s-

“Not gonna happen, Terezi! So, just drop it!”  
  
She frowns at you.  
  
“Whats the big deal, anyways? Normally it doesn’t take this long to wear you down.” She swings her legs back and forth off the ledge of your dresser like a child.  
  
“I’m a changed man,” You do your best to sneer. A party is the last place you want to be at right now.   
  
“Eridan, Nepeta, and Equius are all in the car outside. They’re waiting on us, dumbass.”  
  
Huh. Shit. You didn’t realize Nepeta _or_ Equius were going. You should’ve expected it, though. Nepeta's natural habitat is pretty much always set to 'Rave', and Equius is barely ever seen apart from her. From the sounds of it, all of your friends are going to be there, which secretly makes you want to go a little more. Curse your FOMO. You have to admit, it does sound like it could be fun. On the other hand, though, the thought of seeing Dave there makes something in your chest shrivel up and die a bit. On the other Other Hand, all of your friends are going. You can vividly see in your mind every single one of them having a great time together, while you wallow in residual self pity, and do laundry or something.   
  
What are the chances Dave is actually going to be at the party, anyways? You’ve never known him to go to parties, and it’s probably a part of his stupid ironic shtick. He’ll say he’s 'Too cool for parties,' ironically, but then actually end up being cooler for it. But still, he could very easily be there serving up some 'Sick beats' as a DJ, also ironically. You know he has a set of turntables somewhere in his apartment.  
  
But then, what are the chances you actually see him there, if he is attending? It’s a large area, with a lot of people, and everyone will probably be drunk to shit anyways. You might not even actually run into him, and you’ll have stayed in your room for nothing. Maybe a part of your new Strider-Free lifestyle can work with this. You can tell the world to metaphorically fuck off, because Dave Strider has no control or sway in your life at all anymore! Doesn’t matter if he’s there or not, you don’t give a shit, and you’re going to party your ass off!  
  
You know deep down that none of that is true, and your ass is probably going to remain squarely attached to you, but you like the sentiment anyways.  
  
Terezi pipes up again. “Either you’re coming with us willingly, or I drag you out by the shirt. Your choice!”

She stares at you, with a somewhat pained expression. Her etched face tells you you're just prolonging the inevitable at this point. One, final, dramatized sigh heaves from your chest in defeat. 

  
“Yeah, yeah. Lets fucking go.”

  
She looks agape at you, for some reason. She's been badgering you for like twenty minutes now, you're not really sure what other outcome she was expecting. 

“Damn, you really are a changed man, Karkles!” Terezi smiles at you proudly. “I bet you wanted to hang out with us the whole time, though~” She coos.  
  
“Shut up, before I change my mind!” You swat her feet away from your drawers, and reach in to grab your socks. Terezi ruffles your hair annoyingly as you lean down, with a shark-like grin.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
You really wish you changed your mind. This is the worst, you think. Eridan and Terezi are scream-singing along to show tunes, you’re crammed in the middle seat between Equius and Nepeta, and you’re not even halfway to the party, yet.  
  
The sun is thoroughly set in the distance, and your night of hell hasn’t even begun to unfold. You can faintly hear your laundry calling to you in protest, begging for your return. You really should have stayed home and done that, instead. Especially because you're definitely going to need a change of wardrobe - You're almost positive you're going to puke on this shirt, with how queasy your stomach is.  
  
“I can’t wait to get fucking rancid!” Terezi shouts, from the front seat. Nepeta whoops. They’re right, this is going to be a completely rancid night, but probably not in a fun way. You suddenly wish you’d listened to your common sense, and hid away from everyone. Dave is absolutely going to be there. Why did you think he wouldn't be? The pit in your stomach churns repugnantly. You always do this. You hate it, but you can’t help it. Every square inch of you is worried that something will go so horribly wrong, and you’ll fuck everything so horribly up somehow. You glare at Terezi through your nauseated grimace, even though she can’t fucking see you. You blame her for this, and also Kanaya, because you assume she told Terezi to make sure you came.  
  
Both luckily, and unluckily, the house hosting the party isn’t very far from your dorm building. It’s a frat house, so it’s on campus. It doesn’t take very long to get there. Eridan does spend a solid six minutes driving around looking for a parking space, though. You and Terezi held everyone up while you were basically being kidnapped, so a good amount of people are already at the party.

The house looms too close in the distance; you can't take your eyes off of it. It's large columns host a throne-like balcony you'll likely be puking off of tonight. It feels more than ominous. Foreboding. Equius calls your name, as he’s climbing out of the car. Oh, right. you remember that you actually have to get out, now. You don’t want to. You’d much rather stay here, and suffocate in Eridan's car.  
  
Nepeta's kandi-adorned hand reaches in, and grabs your wrist.  
  
“Theres no backing out now, Karkitty!” She chirps.  
  
You gulp. She’s right. You follow her lead outside of the car, and the second your feet hit the pavement, Nepeta and Terezi cheer and shout, marking the nights beginning. They keep their energy up all the way to the front lawn.  
  
“Lets get this party started!”

Their excitement would be infectious, if this wasn't the worst idea in the history of ever. A corner of your mouth betrays you, though, and it quirks up at their display. Admittedly, they make you feel a little bit better. Eridan shoots you a smug look before sweeping inside the house. You attempt force the corner of your mouth back down, to no avail.

The place in front of you is so absolutely blinding with lights, you wonder if Terezi can see them. House music pounds loud enough that you could hear it from where you guys parked, which was about a five minute walk with all the rival cars taking up so much space. Terezi is grinning wickedly, and Nepeta and Equius have already disappeared inside.   
  
Before you can make any wise decisions, turn, and sprint in the other direction, Terezi grabs your hand, and drags you through the doors, into the blaring house. Oh god. This is terrible.  
  
You’ve not been to many parties in your college career. Okay, so you’ve actually been to approximately zero parties in your college career. You’ve drank, and hung out with friends, but nothing to this level. Not even a little bit. But this is so much worse than you could have ever imagined. The music is exponentially louder inside, and the lights are even brighter, yet you can barely see anything. House music claps your ears, to a point where you feel dizzy. Oh, it’s also _really fucking hot_ in here. Humidity slaps itself to your skin. It feels and smells like you just swam in a pool of strangers sweat. In addition, it smells like cheap alcohol, which is honestly the only descriptor you can think of at this point. You can hardly hear yourself think, let alone hear Terezi shout at you over the music.

  
“Lets get some fucking drinks!”  
  
You agree, nodding with a grimace. You figure you’ll be yelling a lot tonight, so you squeeze her hand in agreement instead. You already hate it here, you might as well be drunk as hell too.  
  
Terezi somehow manages to lead you two through the crowd of everyone. People are doing keg stands, body shots, drinking games, you name it. Not to mention the dancing, holy fuck the dancing. It’s goddamn obscene. Maybe a frat party wasn’t your best introduction to this kind of thing, but it’s a little late to go back. Several figures dance topless, and you think you stepped on a lost pair of pants. Not that you can blame anyone, since your own clothes plaster to your moist skin uncomfortably.  
  
It’s hot, sweaty, sticky, and when Terezi's hands shove a drink into yours, you don’t even question what’s inside. You guzzle the damn thing. Sobriety is not an option, here. You’re in ride or die mode. Terezi downs her drink faster than you do, immediately disappearing and reappearing very quickly, this time with a full bottle of alcohol clutched. Part of you wants to stay, and loiter by the food table you’ve managed to find, and not talk to anyone. To instantly stay put and waste your night pretending to be on your phone, but something wicked tells you your friends wont have that, because Nepeta unfortunately (and impressively) spots you from the crowd, and pummels you with a bone-shattering hug.   
  
“Karkat!” she squeals, like you didn't just see her ten minutes ago. She drags you into the fray of dancers. You look to Terezi, helplessly, but she just gives you a thumbs up and waves you off, opting to focus on her drink. Fuck her, too, wow.  
  
It's difficult to register any of your surroundings, but Nepeta and you dance around like crazy, (well, Nepeta dances like crazy, you just kind of bounce.) and your chest is buzzing with a mix of alcohol, and nerves. You’re finding it a little harder to keep your mouth in a tight frown, once you’re on the dance floor with her. You can feel the nervousness in your chest gradually give way to excitement, not that you'd let anyone know. You're resolute in your thought that this is The Worst.

Nepeta takes your hand, and spins you around with her swiftly. Though she's got a hyper-active flare to it, Nepeta is a very skilled dancer. It's also nice because she’s never made you feel bad about your own lack of talent there. If anything she just dances extra hyper to make up for your shabby moves, occasionally leading you in a song or two. She keeps up her impressive display even as she leans closer to you, conspiratorially. 

  
“So, Ka-nyah tells me that you’ve got your eyes on a boy?~”  
  
Nepeta can miraculously make her high-pitched voice heard over the deafening music. Your already shabby moves stumble in quality when you register what she's said. You’re grateful you have something to blame your reddening face on. Haha! Wow, it’s hot in here!  
  
Words tumble from your lips as a sort of stammer, and Nepeta grins wider. Extremely hot, you think, yes. You might want to step outside for a bit!  
  
“I- He, well- I mean!... No?!”  
  
She just laughs at you, grabbing your hands and spinning you around with her for a second time.

  
  
“It’s okay, Karkat! It doesn’t have to be a big deal!”  
  
“Well, good! 'Cause it’s not, anyways!”  
  
“If you say so, Karkitty!”

  
  
You dance more with Nepeta to shitty chart music that’s unfairly catchy, until you inevitably run out of steam and stumble back to the snack table. You envy her energy at this sort of thing. She’s barely broken a sweat.  
  
“Karkat! Back so soon?”  
  
You yelp, jumping backwards. Oh, its just Terezi. God, why are you still so on edge? You snatch her cup and take a swig of her drink. It tastes like shit, but it’s at least getting you drunker by the minute.   
  
“Nepeta has royally wiped my ass on the dance floor.”  
  
Terezi tuts, while you gasp for air. “Karkles, Karkles, Karkles, You know better than to challenge a seasoned raver in a dance battle! Your ass is all over the damn house, we’re gonna have to call a cleaning crew!”  
  
You can only muster to nod your head solemnly, taking another sip. The pure volume of the music still disorientates you. Terezi pours herself another drink, to replace the one you stole.

“But, hey! I know what’ll get your ass back to fighting shape! Me and some of the others are starting drinking games by the pool table!” She pokes an elbow into your side, nodding with her head to the direction of said pool table. Jesus, you need a break already. You don't understand how everyone can have so much energy for this shit.   
  
“Fuck, Terezi, I don’t know about that-“ You can’t finish your sentence, because she grabs you by the shirt collar and pulls you up to the large circle of people. Fun. 

In the circle, some familiar faces greet you, like Eridan, Sollux, and your other two friends, Feferi and Aradia - But you do find some not-so familiar faces. Most notably, a blond-haired boy with pointed shades who reminds your aching chest way too much of Dave, and a kinky-haired girl with bright makeup sat next to him. In the center of the circle is an array of bottles and shot glasses. The girl next to the pointy-shades guy giggles at you when you’re pulled down to the ground by Terezi.

“‘Rezi, who’s this cutie patootie?” She hiccups. You make a face at her choice in words. The pointy-shades guy gives you a look of commiseration.

Terezi punches your shoulder. “Karkat motherfucking Vantas. I had to drag his ass out of his room, thats why we’re late.”  
  
The blond guys interest perks up when she says your name, and he looks at Terezi pointedly. She ignores him  
  
“Oh my god, I practically fell asleep three words in. Lets get this game started for Christs sake! Mama needs a drink!”  
  
The girl - who you later learn is named Roxy - eagerly gets a game of Truth Or Drink started. The bottles of vodka empty at an alarming rate, and you find yourself drinking quite a bit. Half out of the desire to be more-than-tipsy, and half out of a desire to keep your pride, since the circle makes sure the questions are perfectly sexual and gross.

“Okay, okay, out of anyone at this party - who would you sleep with?”  
  
The pointy-shades guy thinks for a moment, running his finger along the rim of his designated shot glass. He’s surprisingly sober, despite his fair share of shots drank.  
  
“Jake, no doubt. No question about it.”  
  
You don’t really know who that is, but the others seem to, because they erupt in a chorus of “Of fucking course”s and “Not surprised!”s  
  
He turns to Feferi, with a casual voice. “Weirdest kink?”  
  
Feferi goes pale, and someone snorts in the circle. She doesn’t hesitate to drink, earning a ripple of chuckles throughout the circle. Feferi takes her shot like a champ, and then turns to you. Why is she staring at you like that? Her eyes bore holes into you, and she’s got a devious smile playing on her lips.  
  
“Whats the worst fantasy you’ve ever had?”  
  
Oh. Damn. Your mind zips straight to Strider, before you can even comprehend that you have to answer her. You’re thankful that it’s so hard to see right now because your face is completely flushed. Memories of skin, heat, and not enough clothing clogs your brain. You stop functioning for a minute at the thought. You can feel ghost traces of his hands all over your body.  
  
Feferi’s eyes twinkle with mischief, and your throat goes dry. Nothing more vodka can’t fix, you decide. You take your shot, throat burning even more. The others laugh at your chagrin, and Sollux calls you a pussy. You flip him off.  
  
By the end of the hour, you and your friends have taken way too many shots, and amassed way too large a circle of strangers to continue playing any longer. You start to feel considerably drunk, and everything is a lot more exciting right now. Why were you even worried about coming in the first place? This isn’t actually as bad as you had imagined.  
  
You find yourself on the dance floor again, with a group of your friends all jumping and dancing together. Your hair is wet from sweat, and probably beer at this point, you don’t know. The colorful strobe lights make everything harder to focus on, but you’re not complaining at all. Or, at least not very much. You feel a little nauseous from both the amount of alcohol in your system, and the crazy colors.  
  
You struggle to navigate yourself back to the snack table, and grab a cupful of pretzels before walking out the nearest door you can find. Thankfully it leads to the back porch, and not a spare room for people to fuck in. The cold air immediately refreshes you and your sweaty ass self the second you swing the door open. You can suddenly understand why people take ice baths after marathons. This is incredibly nice. You’d normally feel weird about sitting down on a strangers back patio, but you also are incredibly drunk right now, which isn’t normal.  
  
You can actually see shit out here, which is a good change. It’s not a very nice view, though. Abandoned plastic cups and plates cascade themselves all over the deck and the lawn. You think you can see two figures arguing farther away from you, but the bass is still growling so loud you can’t hear what they’re saying.  
  
You’ve finally caught your breath from all the dancing. Dainty party lights keep you company on the porch, but they’re thankfully not set to strobe. You sit for a little while, taking in the chilly night, and appreciating the fun you’ve been having, along with your moment of solitude.

Your moment of solitude is stolen, however, when you feel a body sit next to you. Your own body is too exhausted to tense in alarm, before you see that it’s Kanaya. Her makeup somehow has managed to stay on, save for her lipstick, which has transferred to one of the two plastic cups in her hand. Both look nearly empty.  
  
“Needed a break from everything?” she takes a final sip from her cup. Kanaya holds her alcohol pretty well. Compared to you, at least, but the bar isn’t exactly that high there. You’re a total lightweight, which is annoying, but helpful at times when you don’t want to go out and drink. It’s a very handy excuse that no one can really debate you on. You rest your head against Kanaya’s shoulder.  
  
“Yeah. ’ts super hot in there.”  
  
Kanaya expresses her agreement with you by heaving heavy sigh.  
  
“Having fun?” Kanaya sets her plastic cup duo down on the ground next to her, making a pair of “clink” noises.  
  
“Yeah, surprisingly.” is your scoffed reply. “Thanks for making Terezi make me go.”  
  
“Anytime. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.’  
  
You just hum something meaningless in response. Kanaya sits with you for a few more moments, before stretching her arms, and standing up.  
  
“I should probably go back inside. I want to see if Rose beat her brother in peer bong.”  
  
You pout at the lack of headrest, and also at the mention of Dave. You feel really angry at him for some reason. Why do you feel angry again?  
  
Kanaya raises her eyebrows at your expression. You look up at her, glowering. She still looks confused.  
  
Ugh, you have to explain everything. “Dave Strider sucks,” You spit.  
  
“So I’ve heard.”  
  
You have a weird amount of rage broiling inside your chest. You’re not sure what for. You’re not sure anymore if he did something specific, but you do know you want to get back at him.  
  
“He’s the fucking worst.”

Kanaya looks amused at your statements, probably because she’s heard them a million times over, and also probably because you have your knees tucked under your chin like a pouty, unthreatening child. You begin to uncurl yourself and stand. Your legs fell asleep so it’s a shaky go, but you make it there in the end with triumph.  
  
“I’m gonna kick his ass.” You declare.  
  
Kanaya remains unimpressed at your empty threat. She picks up her two cups from the ground, and shoots a patronizing look your way.  
  
“Maybe you should have some water, instead-“  
  
“I’m gonna kick his ass!” You declare, again. You give her a final determined look, and sweep past her to find the fucker. You struggle to open the door back inside, but you manage.  
  
Dave strider fucking sucks, and you’re going to make sure he knows that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Thank you for bearing with me as I get back on scheduled track. I feel like I've said it quite a bit, but this is one of my favorite parts of the story. (What can I say, I'm quite happy with how this turned out lmao!) It's strange to think we only have a few more chapters to go before this whole thing wraps up. I hope it's been as fun a ride for you all as it has been for me! Thank you so much for reading! ~ Thonkus


	11. Peer Pong: Pong With Peers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Karkat finds Strider, and prepares to beat his ass in more ways than one.

Your name is Karkat Vantas 

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you’re searching around the party with newfound determination. Kanaya said something about beer pong, you think, so you look for that.   
  
Said Kanaya calls out for you from the door, but when you don’t return she waves you off. She probably doesn’t think you can do much in your inebriated state, but you’ll be sure to show her, too. Your wobbly legs do prove to be a difficult obstacle, though.  
  
You shove your way around, and through crowds of people, trying to find the bastard. You still don’t remember why you’re angry, but you’re fucking livid for some reason. It’s all Dave Striders fault, you’re sure of it. It doesn’t take long before you find the table he’s at.   
  
It’s a shitty plastic fold-out table, like the rest of the ones stationed around the party. He’s currently winning, from the looks of the cups, and the familiar pointy-shades guy he’s up against groaning as he takes another cup to drink. A crowd of onlookers cheer as he chugs, and for Dave Striders winning-streak. You hear them sling taunts to one another over the table. 

  
“And now, the student has become the master!”  
  
“Fuck off, I taught you how to play in the first place, little man.”

  
As you walk yourself over to the table, you get a better look at the two of them. Daves face is flushed from drinking. He’s wearing a muscle-tee that makes you want to kick him, and his jeans are an irritating amount of tight on him. Pointy-Shades guy has his blond hair tied back in a short, messy ponytail now. They’re both smiling madly, though still focused on the game.

You decide to tell Strider how much you hate him. Now is the perfect time.   
  
“Hey!” You shout to him. It’s hard to shout effectively over all the noise, but he thankfully hears, and whips his head towards you.   
  
“Karkat?!” He looks confused, and takes a step back.  
  
You’re standing closer to Pointy-Shades, than you are to Dave, but you still make a point of glaring at him.

“You fucking suck!” you snarl across to Dave. He looks surprised, and you hate him more for that. Pointy-Shades snorts into his drink, then takes his final cup on the table, and downs it in one go, before Dave can even make a shot for it.  
  
“I think you’ve got another challenger, Dave!” Pointy-Shades laughs. Fuck yes he does! You’ve just decided, you’re going to kick his ass in beer pong. This is a good idea. The crowd cheers as you step up to the table, in place of Daves previous opponent. You didn’t know exactly how you were going to “show him”, so this is a good chance to do just that. You’re pretty good at beer pong, you think. You’ve spent a lot of time practicing with Sollux together in high school, trying to be cool. Regardless, you’ve got enough determination to punch the moon right now, so you think you can handle beer pong.   
  
Dave runs a worried hand through his hair, and leans his other hand on the tabletop. His toned biceps spill out of his loose tank top. You hate him so fucking much. Pointy-shades walks over to Dave’s side of the table, and they mumble something to one another. Dave rubs a hand over his mouth.  
  
“You’re going down, Strider.”  
  
“Vantas, come on-“   
  
You flip him off before he finishes his sentence, and his face falls deadpan.   
  


* * *

  
  
Once the cups have been set and filled, you’re practically chomping at the bit. You hate him so fucking much. Dave offers to give you the first throw, and you spit it right back in his face.   
  
Dave holds the ping-pong ball between his middle finger and his thumb. It’s grossly mesmerizing how his hands fidget and roll the ball. His first throw bounces, sails through the air, and lands cooly into your center cup. You hear applause for him, and you angrily drink, all while still flipping him off.  
  
You’ve spent way too much time practicing your beer-pong skills to lose to Strider. Your first throw also lands, into his left cup, furthest in the back.   
  
“Fuck yes!” you shout. You’re surely showing him. You know you are. Pointy-Shades guy cheers your name, which earns him an elbow to the rib from Dave.  
  
“Whose side are you on, Dirk?!”  
  
“You know I can’t pass up the chance to see my little bro get his ass whooped by his fuck buddy.”  
  
Dave turns red at his comment, and hits Pointy-Shades in the gut. You’re too busy reveling in your talent to care what they’re talking about. 

Dave Strider misses his next shot, to which you shout victoriously again. Pointy-Shades laughs at Daves expense, as the shorter blond blows a puff of air through pursed lips.  
  
You and Dave go back and forth like that for a few more turns. Onlookers cheer and whoop for you both, and you shout your own curses and cheers to Dave. You’re wiping the floor with his ass. Sollux would be proud. You’re left with six cups, in a pyramid, and Dave is down to four cups, in a diamond. He looks stressed, and very drunk at this point.  
  
Strider is about to toss another calculated throw, when you interrupt him.   
  
“This is fucking shit, let’s make this cooler!”  
  
Dave halts his throw, looking back up at you.  
  
You cross your arms, glaring daggers into him.  
  
“Lets do Strip Pong instead,” you sneer. The people around you whistle and holler. You look smug, you know you do. Daves jaw hangs open in irritation. You’re more than pleased at your ability to piss him off.   
  
Before Strider can protest, Pointy-Shades hollers over the crowd.   
  
“You heard the man! Strip pong it is!”   
  
Dave’s face looks utterly appalled. His nose scrunches up with annoyance.

“Fine!” He tosses his hands up, and then expertly sinks another ping pong ball into your pyramid point cup. You frown.   
  
It’s Daves turn to cross his arms huffily. “There. You gonna play by your own rules, Vantas?”  
  
Hot anger still burns in you. You look him dead in the stupid, stupid shades, and remove your shirt in one swift movement. Fuck a Cinderella Story moment, this is your Kissing Booth moment. Dave looks even more angry, and a couple people from the crowd wolf whistle. 

You don’t remember usually being this confident, especially in front of a large mass of people, but you’ll do anything to piss Strider off some more. You cock out your hip before sending your ball bouncing right into one of his cups.   
  
You’re at five, he’s at three.   
  
Dave does the smart-ass thing to do, and pulls off one of his shoes.   
  
“Both shoes count as one!” Your hands are planted on your hips, you two don’t break eye contact. He removes his second shoe.   
  
He shoots again, and sinks a ball. You shuffle to kick off your shoe.  
  
“Both shoes count as one!” Dave repeats in mockery. You throw your other show at him, and miss spectacularly. Instead of hitting him, your red converse just hits his edge of the table and falls to the floor. You’re only good at throwing ping pong balls, it seems.  
  
You and Dave proceed with your game. He’s got one final cup left, and you’re ahead of him with two. His shirt and socks have been discarded, (His shirt went first, which probably aided in you losing so many of your cups in a row.) and you’re down just to your boxers. (Which probably aided in him losing so many of his cups in a row.)  
  
It’s his turn, and he looks unrightfully hot when he’s angry. Dave Strider with only his shades and pants on is a sight you could get used to. He shoots, and curses colorfully when he misses your cup, balling his hands into fists. Pointy-Shades whispers to him again, which makes him curse louder. Pointy-Shades laughs.   
  
You toss the ping pong ball up and down in your hand. You’re shit-eating grin hasn’t been wiped off your face in several minutes, and you’re ready to win this thing.   
  
You douse the ball in the water cup, stick your ass out just to piss him off, and bounce it right into his last drink.   
  
Cheers assault your ears, and Dave yells in rage. Fucking hell yes. Pointy-Shades guy runs over to give you a massive high five, along with Nepeta, who you didn’t realize came to watch. You get a round of applause, which you absolutely eat up in your drunken state. You abso-fucking-lutely showed him. You sidle over to gloat to Strider about your victory.   
  
His toned body is on display, and you make a show of picking up, and then dropping his shirt in front of him with a delicate finger. He glares at you, and then leans down to get his clothes.

When you catch his eyes, you feel your body heat up. You should probably get your back pants on. You can see his eyes peek overtop his shades at you. You can’t place it, but something in the look he’s giving you really makes you want to kiss him. He pauses, and steals a glance up and down of you. You don’t miss it.   
  
“Like what you see?” You’re fully smirking at this point. Dave goes red. He doesn’t say anything. You both spend a moment, looking directly into the others eyes. The anger in your chest has fizzled away, but something tight still remains. Not anger, though. You’re half-aware of the people surrounding you, setting up another game, talking to one another. You’re more focused on Dave, though. You don’t feel nauseous, or like your stomach is doing backflips. You feel almost powerful. Determined. You don’t break eye contact.   
  
“Do you want to make out? Like, right now?”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Eager, hungry hands trace your shirtless body. You left the rest of your clothes back at the frat house. You’re currently kissing Dave Strider against the backseat of his Honda Civic. You think you remember walking out of the house, and driving a short while, (which was probably a terrible idea, when you think about how drunk you both are) but all you can think of now is purely Strider. You’re almost-straddling him, and he’s pressed against the seat. His hands roam, until they find themselves on the small of your back. He pushes you closer to himself, and you let out a breathy moan into the kiss. He smells like vanilla and strawberries, sure, but he tastes of them even stronger. That, and copious amounts of alcohol, but that ones a given. The two of you pant in the night. It’s dark as hell out here, but the car provides warmth at least. You can’t imagine how cold it would be if you two were doing this outside of the vehicle.  
  
Dave stutters when you pull away, to catch your breath. He whines a needy noise, akin to a mewl.   
  
“Karkat, pl- O-oh.”   
  
You cut him off by attaching your lips to his jaw, pressing kisses in a trail down his neck. He’s very noisy, you note, which isn’t a bad thing. His breath hitches as your lips make their way down to his bare chest. You smirk to yourself. You pepper him all over with wet, hot kisses. Dave moans, before putting one of his hands on your shoulder. They’re strong, yet slender. Dave guides you like that until you find yourself on your back, laying across the seats, with Dave overtop of you. You’re more than okay with this. He takes one of his hands and pins your arms above your head. You can’t help but squirm a little. His shades were taken off almost immediately after stopping the car, so his crimson eyes ravish you beneath him. He leans his head down to your neck, exhaling as he goes, so his hot breath meets your sensitive skin. It’s your turn to be noisy, though you try to keep your mouth shut.  
  
“Karkat,” oh gosh, If he keeps saying your name like that you’re going to be done for. “You don’t have to be quiet.”  
  
You nod hastily, but your lips stay tightly closed. His speech is slurred, which is especially hot.  
  
Dave plants a kiss on your neck, sucking a hicky in place. You have to stop yourself from bucking your hips into him, and you instead let out a moan of ecstasy. Strider seems content with that, and continues his way down.  
  
This is all very similar to a reoccurring dream of yours, but this time, you’re wide awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOOOO B O Y - Thank you so much for reading this chapter! This is, I think pretty obviously, one of my favorites. I'm a sucker for any and all cliche' party scenes, and I think you can tell with the way I write in this one lmao. Hope you all enjoyed! ~ Thonkus


	12. Oh Fuck Oh Shit Oh Fuck Oh Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which The Morning After.

Your name is Karkat Vantas.  
  
Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you’ve just woken up in Dave Striders car, in only your boxers.

  
_“Fuck!”_

  
What did you do last night, holy shit. What did you _do?!_ Strider is asleep, laying flat down on the backseat. You must’ve moved up to the passenger seat in the night. The morning sun burns right into your eyes, like a targeted laser. Your head pounds rhythmically, and you feel very close to hurling outside of the window.  
  
You curse under your breath, clambering for the nearest cellphone - the only cell phone, in fact - which happens to be Dave's. It’s half past noon. You can't help but notice that he also has several missed calls and text notifications from his friends, littering his screen. Most of them are asking where he is, so you guess that means you both left without telling anyone. Your memory escapes you; it looks like you'll have to Sherlock Holmes your way out of this one. Otherwise, you can't remember a thing.  
  
Well, you can remember some things. You can remember dancing with your friends, and Truth Or Drink, but anything past that gets really fuzzy. You’re not sure if you dreamt all that or not either. You don’t have your phone with you. Great. Where the hell even are you?  
  
A quick scan out the car that reveals a shitton of branches, asphalt, and a grossly inspiring view tells you that Daves car is poorly parked near the lake. Birds chirp on trees, and the sun dazzles against the water like glistening sweat on Strider's chest - A vision that haunts your mind, for some reason. All things considered, it’s quite a serene view. However, you’re pants-less in a car that isn’t yours, you’re pretty sure you just slept with your worst enemy, and you feel like you got hit by a freight train. You want to tell the birds to shut the fuck up, because your head hurts. They don’t. It’s like they’re mocking you from their delicate branches. You’re not sure how the fuck you two managed to get here of all places, but thats not exactly the biggest of your worries right now.   
  
What the _ever-loving fuck_ happened? Looking back to Dave in the backseat, he’s fast asleep. His hair falls messily over his face, and his long blond eyelashes make him look akin to a sleeping prince. It makes your chest physically ache, and bile rise in your throat. The hangover doesn't help with that last bit. You can't tear your eyes away from him, though. The sun beams through the window, practically casting a spotlight on Dave. Oh, also he’s in his boxers, too. Although he at least has pants discarded below the seats. You don’t know where your clothes are, but they’re certainly not in the car.   
  
Your hand rubs down your face in worry, and also desperation to stop seeing spots. You really fucked up. You really, _really_ fucked up. This probably means you hooked up with him, after all that time avoiding him. Fuck, you feel like shit. Your self-respect has never been so low than to fuck Dave Strider. Or be fucked by Dave Strider, you guess. You’re not really sure what happened. You do know however, that you absolutely hate him, and he completely fucking used you!   
  
Oh, shit. He wouldn’t…? Fuck, that thought worries you.   
  
You don’t think he would go that low. He’s an asshole and a scumbag, but not of that caliber. At least you don’t think so. Plus, you were surrounded by friends at the party. If you ended up here, you probably went willingly, with an equally drunk Dave Strider. That somehow doesn’t make you feel better about the situation, and you cant shake the thought. How fucking drunk must you have been to sleep with the guy who completely humiliated you for his own enjoyment, anyways? You need to get out of here.

The car ignition isn’t started, which is good. You’d feel bad if the car had been idling all night, especially since you’re planning on getting the fuck out of here. At least you wont leave him completely stranded with no gas. You need to think fast, Vantas.

You eye Daves pants. You don’t fancy walking thirty minutes back to your dorm room in only your boxers. You’d still be without a shirt, or shoes for that matter, but it’d be better than your present situation.  
  
Welp, it beats waiting for him to wake up, and driving back with him. You don’t think you can handle that, so you’ll take this walk of shame over that any day. You pull Daves black jeans up over your legs. They’re a little loose, and you have to cuff them a few times so you don’t trip on the ends, but it’ll work. You feel strange, stealing and wearing Daves pants, but you’ve made worse decisions before, (clearly). He can drive back to his apartment at least. Or text his friends to help him out, since his phone is still here. You’re pretty sure it’s rude as fuck to leave as hastily as you are the morning after, but you also think Dave is rude as fuck, so you’re not going to stick around. You want to go back to your normal life, and forget this ever happened as soon as possible.  
  
Fuck this. - You’re struggling with the door lock. Dicks, your hands are shaking too much to open it.

“Goddamn it, _let me out!_ ” 

  
“Karkat?”

  
  
Oh, for fucks sake. Your aggressive jiggling of the car handle is interrupted, and all the wind is blown out of your sails.   
  
Dave is sat up, with his shades on, (where did he even find those?) running a hand through his bedhead. He looks really attractive right now, probably because he’s only in his underwear. You freeze when you hear his voice. It’s like you’ve been caught with your hand in the metaphorical cookie jar, except the metaphorical cookie jar is literal freedom from this hellish situation.

You puff air into your warming cheeks, and you pointedly look away from him. Your hand stays planted on the door handle, though.

  
  
“Can we… Can we talk?”

If you had stolen a glance at Dave - which you absolutely did not. - you would find that he looks weirdly nervous. His hand fiddles with the hem of his boxers, and he’s biting his tongue. You don’t respond to him. You hope that if you just don’t say anything, you wont ever have to, and you can fade out of existence. Tragically, this isn't the case.  
  
“Karkat, I didn’t want this to ever happen.”  
  
Ouch. You’re pretty sure your face remains expressionless, but that kind of stung. You knew that, already, but still.  
  
“Well, like - obviously, I wanted- Y’know, but-“  
  
He’s stuttering. Why is he the one who’s acting all fidgety? You know thinking that is kind of uncalled for. You’ve been ignoring him for almost a month, and now you’ve both found yourself in the same car, mostly naked.  
  
“Karkat, dude, please say something.” Dave defeatedly sighs into his hands. “I didn’t imagine this conversation happening like this.”  
  
Strider looks like he wants an out even more than you do, which almost makes you a little mad. You’ve spent way too long mulling over exactly what you would say if you just-so-happened to run into him, but you can’t remember any of the things you wanted to say anymore. All your gusto has been taken out of you, and you feel very small.  
  
You blink, but you’re still in his car. What are you even supposed to say? ‘ _Sorry I’ve been ignoring you, but you made me feel like shit because I’m really scared you just like me as a joke_ ’? You’ve never been in a worse, more awkward situation before.  
  
You groan.

“So. We fucked.”

You internally cringe at your own wording, and even Dave raises his brows at you, before nodding slowly.

“Yeah, I think we did.”

  
You inhale, and hold the breath. You have to know. Tears prick your eyes before you can stop them.  
  


“Were you sober?”   
  


Dave looks more surprised, and almost a little hurt. He shakes his head vigorously.   
  


“Karkat, man, I can’t remember a damn thing. I’m pretty sure sober people don’t black out like that.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hunching his shoulders. He looks at you sincerely. “I would never do something like that, Karkat. I was just as drunk as you were.”  
  
You exhale in relief. You don’t know if you actually believe him, or if you just really want to. You can feel yourself breathing faster, and everything feels like it’s been pulled tight in your chest. Like someone squeezing a push-pop to the bursting point.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Well, you- You pulled all the shit earlier, so I didn’t know.”  
  
He looks guilty, which kind of makes you feel bad for thinking that of him. You don’t let your guard down any, though. You wipe your nose with your hand and look away from him. You hate that this means so much to you.  
  


“Fuck, dude - I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am about that. I didn’t realize I was going too far, and I thought you were cool with all that shit because we did stuff like it at work, but I probably should’ve confirmed that before I went all up in your business like that, because of course it was different from work, and- “  
  
“Oh my god, Strider, shut up.” You sniff. You’re secretly thankful for his apology, half-hazard and rushed as it may be. It’s difficult to speak without choking on sobs.  
  


“I’m just really sorry, Karkat. I tried to call you, but shit went straight to voicemail, and after a couple days I figured you just wanted me gone.”  
  


“…I blocked you.” you confess, shakily.  
  


Dave runs his tongue across his teeth, nodding. “Yeah, I probably deserved that. But, you gotta believe me, I never did any of that just because I wanted to get in your pants, or for something stupid or whatever. I just thought you liked me back and I acted on a shitty assumption.”  
  
God, how do you even get yourself into these situations? What kind of bullshittery in your life has lead you to this moment?

  
“Fuckass, I did like you back - I _do_. I just thought you wanted to like... I don’t know, use me for comedy material.” You manage crack out, hugging your bare torso with insecurity. You hate yourself for it. “I didn’t think you’d like me un-ironically.”  
  


“No fucking way, dude! I’ve been into you since we started working together, if I’m honest.” Dave bats his eyelashes under his shades, and rests his chin on his hands. “The minute you called me an insufferable douchenugget I was head over heels.”You can tell he’s trying to make you laugh, and it works.  
  


You scoff, shoving him away gently.   
  


“You _are_ an insufferable douchenugget. I don’t know what you expected.”

A small laugh escapes Striders lips, before you two dissolve into silence again. He offers you a sympathetic smile. You wipe the wetness from your eyes.   
  


“So that all wasn’t for irony? You were really interested in me?” You can’t really understand why someone like Dave would like someone like you.   
  


“I _am_ really interested in you.” He corrects. “I thought it was kind of our dumb fucking way of flirting, or something.”  
  


“How romantic” you snort.  
  


You smile weakly at Dave. He smiles back.  
  
  
  
“Are we cool?”  
  
“Yeah, fuckass. We’re cool.”  
  
  
  


* * *

You and Dave make your way back to campus. He doesn’t mention the fact that you’re wearing his pants, which you’re thankful for. You’re also now wearing one of his shirts, because he had a handful of clothing chucked in his trunk that you didn’t think to check in your haste. Dave is consequently also clothed, except his shirts actually fit him, while you’re basically swimming in the fabric. You two manage to keep up a casual conversation as you drive. You both decide that you’ll go to Daves Apartment, so you can then try and locate your phone, and the rest of your collective belongings.   
  
The sun on your face makes you feel tired, doubly so when you remember that you’re hungover as shit right now. Not that it’s exactly hard to forget, since your head is still pounding. Luckily Strider had Advil in his Trunk Of Wonders, and he stopped at a McDonalds to get breakfast.  
  
You’re looking dismally at your half-eaten hashbrown. You and Dave decided split an order of hotcakes, but your appetite seems nowhere to be found, despite your ravenous hunger.

  
  
You turn to him, quietly. “How many people know, d’you think?”   
  
Dave sighs through his nose.

  
  
“I think just my siblings, probably. I told Rose because I was freaking out once you left, and I think she told Roxy and Dirk. Unless you told anyone, thats it.”

  
“Dumbass, I meant about like-“ you gesture uselessly. “About last night.”

Dave makes an ‘o’ shape with his mouth. “I don’t know," he admits. "Everything was really hectic, and I doubt people would notice if two randos just slipped out of the party, right?

  
You nod. You’re okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all for reading! Apologies for the update so late in the day! I don't want to get ahead of myself but MAN am I bummed that we're nearing the end so soon! This is my first time writing any fanfic proper, so it was definitely a big learning experience. But save your tears, and I'll save mine - We still have two more chapters to get through! ~ Thonkus


	13. The Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we come to an end.

Your name is Karkat Vantas.  
  
Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you’re walking with Dave to his apartment. You feel slightly naked without your phone on you, but you’re also not even wearing your own clothes, so you feel generally a little weird. Hopefully you and Dave can see if any of your friends found your phone from last night.  
  
Dave reaches the front apartment door before you do, and pulls out his ring of keys, which thankfully did not go missing with the rest of your things. He jiggles the lock around, and swings the door open.  
  
You’ve walked through Daves front door lots of times, and this time isn’t any different. He holds the door open for you, and follows in after.  
  
Something that is different though, is the Guy With Pointy Shades lounging on Dave's couch.

  
“Hey, bros.” he calls. You have absolutely no idea why or how he is in Strider's apartment. He’s sat, chilling on Daves couch, like he belongs there. He gets up and meets you two at the door when he sees you both.

  
“Dirk, what are you-?” Dave starts. _Oh_ , so that's Dirk. You remember Dave mentioning his brother before, but you’ve never met him in person.

  
Oh shit, you have met him in person before. You just didn’t know it was him. You suddenly feel a little embarrassed knowing he was at the party last night, and that he knows about you and Dave to some extent. He half-smiles to you, cutting Dave off.

  
“See you’re hanging with Vantas again, little dude.” Dirk puts a weird emphasis on 'Hanging.' Almost like that wasn’t his first choice in words. Neither Dave nor you say anything. Dirk turns to you.  
  


“Your shit's on the counter. Roxy and I grabbed it after you guys ran off to hook up.”  
  
  
You choke on your own spit, when he says the words. You guess that means you both ended up half-naked at the party _in front_ of everyone, rather than somewhere more private. Your face burns with regret at the thought. You also guess this means you two made a show of leaving, since Dirk knows about it. You can also assume all of your friends do, then. Shit.  
  
  
“You might wanna actually check your fucking phone sometime, little dude. All your bros started hitting me up when they realized they couldn’t get ahold of you.”  
  
Dave looks stunned, and he dives to his pocket, reaching for his phone with haste.  
  
“Fuck, yeah - I probably should’ve answered some people.”  
  
“I told them you were busy.” Dirk shrugs, shamelessly looking you up and down. He’s considerably taller than you, and you really wish you had met him under a different set of circumstances. All the Strilondes have a very blatant way of analyzing people, you notice. You recognize the same look in his eyes that Rose had when she ran into you. It’s a look that tells you that they know everything, and it’s a little creepy.  
  
“You might want to sit down when you read them, by the way.” Dirk crows, sidling his way out the door you just walked through. He hits a supportive hand down on Dave's shoulder as he exits, and spares you a parting, all-too knowing look. You bite the inside of your lip. Once Dirk closes the door, Dave swears loudly at his screen. He looks bewildered. Thats not good.  
  


“Karkat, get your phone.” He commands. He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You sprint to the counter, which has your phone, and also your clothes thrown atop it in a messy pile. You turn over your phone screen. It’s not cracked from whatever the hell you got up to, thankfully. You do, however, have several missed texts and calls from your friends. Dave and you share worried looks.  
  
You have messages from Eridan, Equius, and surprisingly, Gamzee, all asking about your whereabouts. They’re short, and not in large amounts like the rest of your notifications.  
  
  
 _caligulasAquarium (2:02 AM):_ karkat wwhere the fuck are you? kanaya wwont stop asking  
 _caligulasAquarium (2:04 AM):_ shes going to kill you. or me wwhen she realizes i drovve us all here and therefore am responsible for losing you or wwhatevver  
 _caligulasAquarium (4:23 AM):_ holy shit are you wwith davve right noww  
  
  
You ignore all of them for now, moving on to your other messages. Kanaya has sent you a multitude of them, but you’ll look at those later. You don’t really want to deal with her wrath right now. You go to Gamzee's messages instead.  
  


 _terminallyCapricious (2:15 AM):_ Yo, KaRbRo. KaNaYa KeEpS aSkInG mE iF i KnOw WhErE yOu ArE. aRe YoU oKaY bUdDy? :O(  
 _terminallyCapricious (8:03 AM):_ KaRbO aRe YoU oKaY? i KnOw ThIs Is AlL a LoT bUt JuSt RePlY wHeN yOu CaN  
  


You figure he’s referring to you hooking up with Dave, since thats common knowledge in your friend group apparently. You groan to yourself, and Dave looks at you sympathetically, before responding to his own plethora of texts. He has himself sat down on one of the kitchen barstools, per Dirks suggestion.  
  
  
 _centaursTesticle (2:06 AM):_ :33 < karkat!!!!!! its me!! are you with that boy right meow?!  
 _centaursTesticle (2:07 AM):_ :33 < be safe !!!!  
 _centaursTesticle (4:12 AM):_ :33 < kanaya s33ms worried about the video but i just hope you're having fun!! ;33

  
Oh, fuck.

  
 _carcinoGeneticist (1:42 PM):_ WHAT VIDEO  
 _carcinoGeneticist (1:42 PM):_ NEPETA WHAT VIDEO ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

“Dave, don’t freak out but-“  
  
“Rose just sent me a link-“  
  
“A _what?!_ ”  
  
  
If your heart could sink further into the bottomless pit that is your stomach right now, it would. In a flash, you're next to Dave, who is sat on the barstool, per Dirks suggestion. Surely this is just something stupid, and irrelevant. It's probably just a Snapchat of you laughing so hard, your drink shoots out of your nose. Or perhaps you even got drunk enough to think you were good at dancing, and one of your friends caught it on film. Surely thats all it is. Minimally humiliating, but overall recoverable. Right? That's surely all it is. Somehow you're pretty sure neither of you really believe that. A darkly-lit video is pulled up on Dave's phone, thanks to his sister. It’s from the party, obviously, and the timestamp looks considerably too long to be a Snapchat. He worriedly hits play.  
  
  
On the phone screen, a scene unfolds itself before you, much to your horror. That is absolutely not a Snapchat. Holy _shit_ , how do you not remember this!? A shaky camera focuses on you and Dave playing beer pong, from the looks of it. Video-Karkat has a distinct lack of a shirt. Oh god. Your face is on fucking fire, but the you on the screen struts and teases with a confidence that only a thoroughly wasted moron would have.  
  
Dave looks utterly mortified as the video plays out, and you both get progressively more naked. The two of you are drunk as all hell in the video, and it’s no wonder you can’t remember a thing when you look at how much you consume. You feel ill just watching your past-self chug another cup. You almost spare a glance at how unfairly attractive Dave looks in the video, but you're more caught up in the absolute devastation of a show screen-you is putting on, in solely his boxers. If you weren't wearing that same pair right now, you'd have a hard time believing it was you.  
  
  
“You’re really good at beer pong.” Present-Dave chokes, like it pains him to say. Screen-Karkat bounces and sinks the final ball of them game. Screen-Dave looks frustrated in more ways than one.  
  
  
You can’t force a response out of your throat, as the audio erupts into cheers at your victory. You look like a fucking idiot, and Dirk gives you a high-five, clearly amused at your drunken confidence.

  
“Like what you see?” Screen-Karkat slurs. You’re viscerally cringing at yourself, but your embarrassment contorts into nothing short of pure, unadulterated horror when a beat passes, and Screen-Dave asks you something that you can’t make out. Video-You and Video-Dave press your lips together, practically mouth-fucking right then and there. You run Dave up against the nearest wall, and drag his hips forward by the beltloops.

  
“Oh my god!” Present-Dave all but shrieks in embarrassment.

  
Thankfully, you both soon eagerly stumble your way off screen, and to the nearest exit. The video stops a few seconds after that. A thick silence washes over you two. Neither of you speak up for a little while.  
  
  
Dave lets his head fall to the counter top. His cheeks are as red as you can guess yours are, and he rubs his eyes from beneath his shades.  
  
  
“Rose said it got shared around a shitton by some upperclassmen.”  
  
  
You just sit, with your head in your hands. This is officially the worst. You hate it here. You hate everything. There is now a video circling around of you and Dave Strider half-naked, making out against the wall. This is literally your worst nightmare, you decide. This is karma for all the things you've messed up in your life, surely. Dave doesn’t look too thrilled about it either. You'd almost think that he hates you for this, but he was equally drunk and responsible, so you're hopeful.   
  
Your phone buzzes, pulling you out of your spiral. It’s Kanaya. You click the notification and are greeted with the several missed texts from earlier.  
  
  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:01 AM):_ Karkat, Where Are You? Are You Okay? No One Can Seem To Tell Me Where You Are.  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:02 AM):_ Karkat?  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:02 AM):_ Karkat, I Hope You Have Your Phone On Your Person.

 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:07 AM):_ Did You Call Gamzee To Pick You Up?  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:08 AM):_ All Of Our Friends' Vehicles Are Still Parked Here.  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:09 AM)_ : You’re Not Answering Your Phone Calls.  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:13 AM):_ I Have Texted Gamzee, In Hopes You’re Somehow With Him. He Tells Me You Are Not.  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:13 AM):_ Karkat, I Am Admittedly Getting A Little Nervous For Your Safety.  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:20 AM):_ I’ve Contacted Rose, Who Tells Me That You Left The Party With Dave, Per Dirks Recounting.  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:21 AM):_ I Am Happy You’re No Longer Beating Around The Bush, But Please Tell Someone When You Plan On Leaving Next Time. I Was Worried.  
  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (3:20 AM):_ Karkat, Please Tell Me Why There Is A Video Going Around Of You Making Out With Dave Strider In Your Underwear.

 _grimAuxiliatrix_ ( _3:21 AM):_ When You Said - Very Angrily, Might I Add - That You Were Going To Beat His Ass, I Foolishly Thought You Meant In A Fight, And That Your Inebriated Threats Were Empty.  
 _grimAuxiliatrix_ _(3:22 AM):_ Karkat, I Hope I Don’t Have To Tell You That This Is Bad.  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (3:22 AM):_ Hopefully This Will Blow Over In A Week, And You Don’t Become A New Internet Sensation On Twitter.  
  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (3:25 AM):_ Dirk Tells Me The Video Has In Fact Done Rather Well On Twitter, Amongst Our Classmates, So Perhaps That Was A Foolish Train Of Thought As Well.  
  
 _grimAuxiliatrix_ ( _5:24 AM):_ I Am Going To Bed. Please Message Me When You Are Awake. I Worry, You Know.  
  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:02 PM):_ Karkat, I Hear From Rose That You And Dave Are Awake, And Have Seen The Video.  
  
  
  
 _carcinoGeneticist (2:04 PM):_ YEP

 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:04 PM):_ How Are You Doing?  
  
 _carcinoGeneticist (2:05 PM):_ I’VE BEEN BETTER  
 _carcinoGeneticist (2:05 PM):_ YOU KNOW, PRETTY USUAL. AVERAGE SUNDAY MORNING.  
 _carcinoGeneticist (2:06 PM):_ OR EVENING I GUESS.  
 _carcinoGeneticist (2:06 PM):_ BUT YEAH IT’S ALL GOOD. WOKE UP TO A FUCKLOAD OF MESSAGES AND A VIDEO OF ME MACKIN ON DAVE STRIDER. DOING PEACHY KEEN OVER HERE.  
 _  
grimAuxiliatrix (2:07 PM):_ I Sense Sarcasm In Your Tone.  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:08 PM):_ I Do Hope This Isn’t Aiding In Your Prolonged, Self Proclaimed Hatred Of Him.

  
 _carcinoGeneticist (2:08 PM):_ NO UH  
 _carcinoGeneticist (2:09 PM):_ ACTUALLY WE’RE KIND OF OKAY I THINK

 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:09 PM):_ I’m Happy To Hear That, Karkat.  
 _grimAuxiliatrix (2:10 PM):_ I’ll Let You Get The Rest Of Your Affairs In Order Now. I’m Glad You’re Okay, Karkat.  
  
 _carcinoGeneticist (2:10 PM)_ : THANKS, KAN.

 _grimAuxiliatrix_ _(2:11 PM)_ : Anytime.  
  
  
You look up from your phone, and rest your head on your palm. Dave is still sending messages back to people, so you get a chance to stare at him for a little bit. His sunglasses have slid down his face, just barely hanging onto his nose. Overtop of them, you can see his eyes. They’re filled with a distant kind of emotion, but you can’t place it. His jaw is set in a way that tells you he’s not happy to find out any of this either. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and it takes you a second to realize he caught you staring. It feels strange to break the eye contact.  
  
  
“Would it be really shitty to ask if you like what you see?” He half-laughs half-cringes.  
  
  
“Oh my fuck-! probably, I don’t know anymore!” Your words bubble into a half-laugh with him.   
  
You can’t believe those words ever fell out of your mouth, even while intoxicated. You feel a little bit better since he’s told you he does, in fact, like you un-ironically, but that doesn’t stop you from turning red.  
  
  
“Well, do you?” Dave smolders, raising a single brow. A full laugh escapes your lips this time. You shove him playfully.  
  
“No, your breath smells like shit.”  
  
“Thats a scent, Vantas, use your eyes.”  
  
“My eyes can see the stink lines coming from you mouth.”  
  
“Damn, rude!”  
  
  
You’re happy things are back to normal. Well, kind of back to normal. You’re still internally dealing with the fact that a video of you two has gotten out, but you’re glad you and Dave can at least joke around.  
  
  
“Are you still hungry?” Dave offers.“I can make us something to eat that isn’t shitty fast food.” You _are_ rapidly aware of your hungry stomach, now that he mentions it.  
  
“Sure.” You stretch your arms out, letting yourself yawn. Maybe second-breakfast will wake you up a bit, and you don’t want to think about that video any longer anyways.  
  


You and Dave spend the rest of your afternoon cooking together. As it turns out, you’re both really awful chefs. You tried looking up a French Toast recipe, but royally fucked it up, so you two settled on box-mix pancakes instead. You guys don’t work super well together in the kitchen a first. You don’t know where he keeps any of his utensils, which doesn’t help, and you awkwardly run into each other every once in a while thanks to the small space. You have fun though, and eventually you get into a groove of things, continuously chirping quips and jokes at one another. Dave sprinkles cinnamon onto some of the pancakes with a flourish, while you make quirk work setting plates out. They turn out pretty edible, and you eat in comfortable silence. It’s warm and familiar in his apartment; You do the washing up together as the sky outside turns cool and dark.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
You’re laying down, with your head in Dave Striders lap. You have a lot of worries in the back of your mind, but with Dave running his hands absentmindedly through your hair, and the cheesy movie playing on the TV, you manage to relax. The warm lights of the screen play on your faces, illuminating the two of you as a pair.  
  
Dave made sure to cautiously ask you if you were okay with the position you’ve both found yourself in. A tiny part of you is nervous still, but a larger part of you wants to trust him. Thats how you ended up laying down like this. It’s comfortable, and you could almost fall asleep if you weren’t invested in the film.  
  
  
The Lovers dance in the street on screen. The rain pours down on their grinning faces, and they don’t look cold. Dave hums along to the music swelling melodically along with the characters.  
  
  
You and he still have a lot to work through, and a lot to overcome, but you hope that you’ll do it together. You want to do it together.  
  
  
The film characters faces inch closer together in the rain.  
  
  
  
 _“I love you,”_ one of them whispers.

_“I love you, too,"_ the other whispers back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fucking sMOKES you guys. That is a wrap on the main story. We still have an epilogue to get at, but for all intents and purposes... The End. I cannot describe the amount of joy and fun this has brought me, and especially that so many of you have liked this little story of mine! I had an incredible time writing it, and even more so getting to share it with all of you guys. Look out for the epilogue this Wednesday, and, always and forever - Thank y'all for reading! ~ Thonkus.


	14. {EPILOGUE}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we explore the epilogue.

Your name is Karkat Vantas.  
  
Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you’re starting your senior year in college. But right now, your head is in the sink of your friend Terezis bathroom. You promised her you’d both dye your hair together, and today is the day it’s finally come to fruition. Your hair has been half-bleached, and then half-dyed a cherry red. As a result, Terezi’s sink looks like it’s been a part of a brutal crime scene, but she dyes her hair quite frequently, and you’re sure her countertops are used to the abuse.   
  
If the shirt you were wearing wasn’t already dark red, you’d worry about staining it. However, you constantly steal shirts from your boyfriend, who has a strict closet color pallet of mostly reds and grays.   
  
Once your hair is thoroughly washed, a towel is thrown against your head with a soft ’thump’; Terezi laments about your god-awful catching skills. She’s sat atop her bathroom counter, swinging her legs back and forth while she waits for you to finish. Her dye has already been washed out, and a cacophany of colors streaks wildly through her hair.   
  
You towel dry your hair in mutual silence, looking at your reflection in the mirror, and your newly dyed hair. You’ve never been one to try crazy colors - Vriska and Terezi did all that stuff - but you admit you think it looks quite nice. Confidence isn’t your strong suit, but it’s certainly fun to have a cool new hair color - even if its only half your head of hair.  
  
Once you’re mostly-dried, Terezi hops off the counter, sniffs your hair. and takes you by the hand.   
  
“Lets go, Cool Kid is going to think we forgot about him!”  
  
Your phone buzzes, immediately after the words leave her mouth.   
  
“Speak of the devil,” you smile. It is in fact, Dave Strider, asking when you and Terezi are going to be there.   
  
_turntechGodhead (3:02 PM):_ yo kitkat when are you and the ‘rez getting here  
 _turntechGodhead (3:02 PM):_ also sollux you’re with him too right  
 _turntechGodhead (3:03 PM):_ me n john have kickass snacks ready. plus kan and rose sent their ETA of 15 minutes. Everyone else is already here  
  
You snort at his term of endearment for you. You and your bunch of friends have made it a tradition to have a large group movie night, at least every other month. Sometimes people are busy with classes or work, though, but you all try your best. You all meet up at Daves house (yes, house. He moved into an actual house with his brother a few months ago) and sit on the big sectional sofa together. You usually have a rotation of snack-bringers, and John and Dave have them covered for tonight.  
  
 _carcinoGeneticist (3:04 PM):_ WE’RE JUST HEADING OUT NOW, WE SHOULDN’T BE LONG.  
 _carcinoGeneticist (3:04 PM):_ TEREZI INSISTED WE DYE OUR HAIR TOGETHER RIGHT THIS SECOND

_turntehcGodhead (3:05 PM):_ wait  
 _turntechGodhead (3:05 PM):_ oh my god kitkat I have to see this  
 _turntechGodhead (3:05 PM):_ pics or it didn’t happen  
  
 _carcinoGeneticist (3:06 PM):_ YOU’LL SEE ME IN LIKE 10 MINUTES STRIDER, YOU’LL SURVIVE.

_turntechGodhead (3:06 PM):_ kitten baby darling please i will literally genuinely honest to god fucking die right now  
 _turntechGodhead (3:07 PM):_ john will have to scrape my body off our nice ass carpet do you really want that karkat

  
You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you, and make your way out of the dorm rooms to the car lot. You guess you’d better make it there fast, lest Strider mysteriously die in your absence, but you take your time walking there.   
  
Sollux is waiting by his car for you guys. Although you did get your license (finally) over the summer, you’re still saving up for a car of your own. Thankfully Sollux, Terezi and You are all situated in dorm blocks near one another, so carpooling is easy.   
  
  
“Finally, I thought you guys weren’t coming.” Sollux looks up from his phone. “Nice hair, you guys.”  
  
“Thanks! We got held up since Karkles doesn’t know how to rinse out dye without taking twenty minutes.”  
  
“I didn’t take _that_ long!”   
  
  
You and Terezi file into Sollux’s car, and your feet have to skillfully dodge one of Eridan's scarves on the floor, lest you step on it. The car ride is spent listening to Sollux’s playlist, and chatting amicably with one another. Familiarity washes along as He drives. Fast-paced dubstep rings out shockingly quiet from the speakers, that surely would have the car physically vibrating if it was at a normal listening volume. Driving across campus with any number of your friends is a feeling thats not foreign to you at this point. You're pretty sure Rose would even claim it’s a calming sense of constant in your life. You're pretty sure Rose would be right.  
  
Your phone buzzes from its loose position in your lap. It’s Jade. One of John and Dave's friends that you met a little while ago, and you’ve grown close with. You two get along well. She’s a smart girl - studying botany - with a love for dogs. In fact, once you and her attended a local dog-based expo together to look at all the cute pooches.   
  
  
_gardenGnostic (3:11 PM):_ Quick, Karkat! Tell me what color you dyed your hair so I can know and Dave doesn’t!!  
  
 _carcinoGeneticist (3:11 PM):_ OH MY GOD JADE  
 _carcinoGeneticist (3:12 PM):_ IT’S SPLIT-DYED RED

_gardenGnostic (3:12 PM):_ FUCK yes okay thank you! :DD   
  
  
you and Jade also do your fair of messing with Dave Strider. Well, most of your friends all mess with one another like that, but still. Your phone erupts into more notifications shortly after  
  
  
 _turntechGodhead (3:14 PM):_ oh my god karkat  
 _turntechGodhead (3:14 PM):_ did you actually tell jade or is she just fucking with me  
 _turntechGodhead (3:15 PM):_ yOU ASSHOLE SHES TELLING EVERYONE BUT ME THIS ISNT FAIR  
 _turntechGodhead (3:15 PM):_ IM BEING SEVERELY BULLIED RIGHT NOW AND I WANT YOU TO KNOW IM BLAMING YOU  
 _turntechGodhead (3:15 PM):_ NEPETA IS MAKING CAT BASED PUNS AT MY EXPENSE KARKAT

  
You allow a snicker to yourself, purposefully leaving him on Read. He'll survive.  
  
  
It isn’t much long afterwards, that you pull into the driveway of Strider De Casa 2.0. The house number reads, as always, “0420” which you think is the only reason Dave and Dirk wanted to live in this particular house.  
  
Sollux parks the car in the long stretch of driveway. Theres thankfully enough space for all of the cars of your friends, since most of you hitchhike with one another. The second he takes out his key, you and Terezi’s feet hit the pavement in unison, and begin racing to the front door. Terezi cuts across in the freshly cut grass, and takes the lead in front of you, a measly pavement-dweller. She sticks her tongue out at you, before swinging the big house door open. You flip her off. Sollux appears behind you, and as a trio, you meander into the house; scents of Vanilla and Cinnamon air fresheners greeting you.   
  
Inside, the foyer leads to an open living room on the left, and the kitchen to the right, with a staircase leading to the upstairs separating the two. Photos are hung ironically on the walls, as is a 'Live, Laugh, Love' picture, which Dave demands you all pay respect to upon entering. You do not.   
  
You know your way around the house well, since you’re here all the time. Hell, Dave has one of his dresser drawers dedicated to jackets or shirts you've left behind, which makes you feel grossly warm and fuzzy.  
  
  
Grabbing your attention with giggles and footsteps, Jade and Feferi come running up to greet you three, snorting to themselves, and holding Daves phone, which you assume they stole from him in the midst of their shenanigans.  
  
  
“Eridan is in the kitchen,” Feferi winks to Sollux, who then excuses himself away from you guys’ bullshit.  
  
  
“Karkat, your hair looks really good!” Jade squeals. “Doesn’t _Karkat’s hair look really nice, Feferi?”_ she makes sure to say that last sentence extra loud, calling back to the kitchen, where you assume Dave is as well.   
  
Feferi catches on, and she, too calls out with a campy amount of annunciation. “Oh, _yes!_ The color in _Karkat’s hair is just lovely!”  
_  
  
You and Terezi snort in tandem. The lengths your friends go to to gently bully one another never ceases to amuse.   
  
Sure enough, you hear some chatter in the kitchen, followed by laughter, and a lot of clanging noises, all leading up to Dave Strider clambering out of the kitchen. He runs so fast out that he slides a bit on his socked feet, and has to catch himself on the staircase railing. He looks positively disheveled, but the second he sees you his face lights up with such a genuine glee, that you can't help but smile, embarrassed.  
  
  
He makes a show of running up to you, gently grabbing your shoulders, and peppering your face with kisses. The girls all laugh.  
  
“Vantas-“ _a kiss to your cheek._ “Who-“ _another kiss._ “Gave you-“ _kiss._ “The right-“ _a kiss on your lips, this time._ “To look-” _one more._ “So good?”  
  
you push him away from you, with a sheepish smile. “Like what you see?”  
  
“Also-fucking-lutely.” Dave ruffles a hand through your hair. “It’s soft, too.”   
  
  
“Okay, you guys are gross, I’m going to go see if Gamzee wants help with the DVD player.” Jade hands Daves phone back to him, and Feferi nods in agreement before they both run off to the living room, with Terezi not far behind.  
  
Dave still has you sort-of in his arms. His hands rest on your shoulders, and he smiles at you, breathlessly.  
  
  
“You look really nice.”  
  
“Careful, fuckass, you’re drooling.”  
  
He doesn't respond. Instead, he smiles even wider at you. You lean up for a kiss, slower and softer this time.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
You’re sat, next to Dave, on the edge of his bigass sectional sofa. All of your friends are there, even Dirk came downstairs to watch with you guys. Theres a stupendous amount of snacks on the coffee table, that surely wont last long with this amount of people. Some of your friends are sat on the floor, with blankets and cushions, and others are huddled up together on the actual sofa.  
  
You rest your head against your boyfriends shoulder. You’re really lucky to have a group of friends like this. It wasn’t easy, mind you. You’ve all been through a lot together, even the ones you’ve just met within the past few years. They do a lot to put up with your bullshit, and you put up with theirs. It’s completely worth it, though. You’re like a weird sort of family.  
  
You aren’t sure who did first, but eventually every one of you ends up fast asleep, with movie credits rolling past on the TV screen.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...The End. 
> 
> Thank you all, truly, so much for joining me on this adventure. It means so much to me that so many of you enjoyed this. Although I always write for myself first, it means more than you can possibly know that even just a handful of people were brought some joy from this. Thank you to those who left Kudos, who reminded me to take breaks, or even who just read, silently enjoying the journey. A passion project this may have been, I hope that my passion broke through a bit to you all, and made the experience even better! I love you all, so very much.
> 
> For one last time: Thank y'all for reading. 
> 
> ~ Thonkus


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